Aerials
by Bravada
Summary: AU. One hundred years ago, the Avatar was killed, and the benders were no more. But now that the Fire Lord has merged with a demon, the Spirits are going to have to set things straight. Zutara, Taang, Sukka.
1. Prologue

_When the nations go to war, the spirits convene._

_The Fire Spirit says: "I smell hatred on these humans. They will bring destruction upon themselves."_

_The Water Spirit says: "We should not be so quick to judge. It is in the humans' nature to destroy…just as it is in ours."_

_The Air Spirit says: "This is not the first war, nor will it be the last."_

_The Earth Spirit says: "Humans have survived worse than this. Let them have their war."_

_In the end, the spirits do nothing._

* * *

_When the Avatar dies, the spirits convene._

_The Fire Spirit says: "The balance is upset…how long until the humans spiral into darkness?"_

_The Water Spirit says: "The Avatar is no more…the humans will no longer be able to channel the spirits."_

_The Air Spirit says: "We must not act in haste. The humans are strong. They will prevail."_

_The Earth Spirit says: "They have brought this upon themselves. The humans must now pay for their sins."_

_In the end, the spirits do nothing._

* * *

_When the benders die out, the spirits convene._

_The Fire Spirit says: "It is as we feared. The humans no longer hold any connection to the spirits."_

_The Water Spirit says: "The humans are out of balance without us. There will be death and life where there should not be."_

_The Air Spirit says: "We are the very substance of their lives…they cannot survive without us."_

_The Earth Spirit says: "We cannot mend the bond. The connection is severed."_

_In the end, the spirits do nothing._

* * *

_When the Fire Lord accepts the demon, the spirits convene._

_The Fire Spirit says: "This is an abomination. We cannot stand by and allow this to happen."_

_The Water Spirit says: "The demon and the Fire Lord will bring ruin unto both their world and ours. They must be stopped."_

_The Air Spirit says: "Without the benders and the Avatar…who can stop this demon?"_

_The Earth Spirit says: "Us. Only us."_

_The spirits come to a decision. It is the only way._

* * *

When Zuko turns six, he accidentally sets his blanket on fire. He knows this is wrong…so he hides away and tells no one.

When Katara is six, she asks her father about waterbenders. He smiles and tells her everything he knows, which isn't very much at all. Katara is quiet when he finishes. Very quiet.

When Aang turns seven, he flies. The monks bow down to the first bender to be born in over one hundred years. But they have no teacher for him.

When Toph is seven, she begins to hear lies from the ground. After listening very hard, she suddenly discovers that she can hear more than that. Much more than that.

* * *

When Zuko is ten, his father catches him playing with flames. The look on the Fire Lord's face is one of shock…and hatred.

When Katara turns ten, she hikes into the tundra on her own. She goes to the coast, and she makes the tides move when they should not.

When Aang is ten, he soars through the sky like a bird. He lands high in the mountains, and it is there that the only airbender finds the only sky bison.

When Toph turns ten, she tries to tell her mother that she can see with the ground. Her mother does not understand, and Toph knows it is pointless to try to explain.

* * *

When Zuko turns fourteen, he speaks up in his father's war council. His father challenges him, and though Zuko is strong, with only four years of training…he falls quickly. The doctors are barely able to save his eye.

When Katara is fourteen, she comes across a rabid polar dog in the tundra. The beast attacks, but she is able to contort its body against its will. She throws the animal through the air without even touching it. After this, Katara begins to see her gift in a different light.

When Aang turns fourteen, the Fire Nation comes. They destroy everything. Monks die one by one…but not a single one reveals Aang's secret. When the soldiers leave, Aang decides he doesn't want to be an airbender anymore.

When Toph is fourteen, she runs away from home. Her parents pay a man, and soon Toph finds herself in shackles, being led back. It is then that she discovers that steel and iron bend just as the dirt does. She still returns home, nonetheless.

* * *

When Zuko is eighteen, his father comes to watch him spar. After Zuko easily defeats ten men at once, he dares to hope for praise. But when he looks to his father, he discovers that Ozai is staring at him with pure contempt…and fear. His uncle looks worried.

When Katara turns eighteen, her brother is gored while hunting. When the hunting party returns to the village, they say he will die. Katara acts without thinking, and when she is alone…she weaves her brother's flesh back together. The elders later call it a miracle, but her brother knows better.

When Aang is eighteen, he begins to ask questions. He pours himself into ancient scrolls, searching for answers, and finding nothing. The few remaining monks understand his sudden obsession. After all, it must be difficult to be the only bender alive.

When Toph turns eighteen, her mother brings up marriage. It takes all of Toph's strength to stop from vomiting right there. That night, she begins to brood. She decides to buy her time. After all, when she last acted rashly she ended up being dragged home anyway.

* * *

It is the dead of winter. The snow is falling heavily, and it is so cold that even the creatures of the tundra do not dare leave their holes. The snow on the ground is so thick that the men have to carve it out every day, just so the people could leave their homes. To cook. To clean. To hunt. To _survive_. It is dismally tiresome, and even the most seasoned of the elders begin to wish for the warmer months.

Katara is sitting with her father and Sokka at the fireplace in the center of their ice home. It is warm enough that she can relax in a simple tunic and pants, and for this she is extremely grateful. She can feel the pull of the snowflakes at her finger tips, and (not for the first time) Katara wonders if anyone would notice if she stopped the snow. Sokka would not approve, she knew. He was still afraid of everything. Of _her_. But that was no matter, for sometimes Katara was afraid of herself as well.

Her clumsy brother nearly drops his cup of steaming tea when one of the warriors bursts through the door. The man is panting, bent over at the waist as he tries to catch his breath. There is ice clinging to the man's beard, and his eyebrows too. Sokka, Katara, and Hakoda all immediately spring to their feet, fearing the worst.

In a land as unforgiving as theirs…all three fear the possibilities as the clearly frightened man struggles to speak. Katara listens for a moment, but it quickly becomes apparent that no one is in danger. Better, no one has _died_. She finds herself breathing a sigh of relief, until she picks up on just what exactly the warrior is saying.

A Fire Nation watercraft…washed up on shore.

The man sputters on, arms gesticulating wildly.

Two men. One old and nearly frozen over…the other? A younger boy, barely alive.

The warrior goes on to say that the man begged the warriors not to abandon them. The tribesmen were leery, but they were not cruel enough to leave two people to freeze to death. They hurried back to the village, taking the young boy straight to the healers. The old man was put in chains, and left with the boy as he requested.

The warrior spoke so rapidly that Hakoda had to ask him to repeat himself several times. Even after the third iteration, his tale is difficult to believe.

Sokka immediately condemns the Fire Nation scum. He angrily retorts that it would have been better to leave them to their death. Now the Water Tribe would have to deal with them…and the danger that they would bring. Katara, despite herself, finds that she agrees with his vengeful words. She has no love for the Fire Nation, and she decides that she cares not if these two nameless men live or die. She can tell that both the warrior and her brother are surprised by her stance, but she does not budge. Katara is tired of always doing the right thing. And, quite frankly, she has found that with every passing year she is becoming as cold as the world she lives in.

Her father, however, does not agree.

"No." Hakoda shakes his head, lips set in a firm frown, "I will not condemn these men to death."

Sokka scowls, but Katara chews on her bottom lip.

She thinks that maybe she would've felt guilty for weeks if they forced the two men out into the blizzard. They wouldn't have survived even five hours.

"You may go now." Hakoda dismisses the warrior, "But keep people away from them…for now. Until we can be sure of their intentions, we must be cautious."

The warrior nods, a bit of snow falling from his thick beard. He turns and disappears into the white nothingness, a blur of blue that quickly fades.

"Katara," Hakoda turns to her, "Go to the healers. They may need your help."

"What?" She is so surprised by this demand that her eyes widen and she freezes in place.

"The boy. He is nearly dead." Hakoda speaks slowly, patiently, "Go to him. Your brother survived with you…perhaps this Fire Nation boy can get some of your good luck."

She does not say anything, but Katara hopes that her stomping against the ice as she dresses makes it apparent to Hakoda just how she felt about tending to the Fire Nation weakling.

* * *

**So...this is me testing the water. Not sure if I will continue this. I want to, but I also want to see if there's any interest. So please leave a review and tell me if I should continue or not. This is a different writing style for me, hopefully something that I can update much faster with less effort. This prologue is just kind of setting up the rest of the story. Chapters after this will be much longer with a lot more to them. So...what do you think? Yay or nay?**


	2. The Girl With Blue Eyes

When Katara arrives, the healers immediately dump the Fire Nation boy onto her. The younger women beg off, scurrying back to their homes. Nobody wants to be out during the blizzard…and nobody cares enough about the boy to endure that misery. Two of the elder healers say they will go help the old Fire Nation man, who has apparently collapsed from exhaustion. They say they need to tend to him, despite his protests and demands to remain with the boy. Where the old man is currently being held, Katara does not know, only that it is _not_ with the boy.

So she finds herself alone.

There is a small fire burning on the far wall, a bright orange light casting shadows through the darkness. It is nighttime, and Katara has to squint as she takes a few steps forward.

The boy is on his back, head turned to the side, lying on a pile of furs. He does not have a blanket on him, which Katara finds strange. Reaching up, she grips the hem of her winter coat and pulls it over her head, casting it to the ground. Somehow, she knows she's going to be here a while. She decides that she might as well be comfortable.

She approaches the boy slowly, eyes pinpointed on his still body. He _looks_ to be unconscious, but she cannot be sure, and she will not take chances. Fingering her water skin, she kneels down next to him, her knees hitting the floor as she slowly moves her hands into her lap.

Silence fills the room, and Katara finds that her heart is pounding in her chest as she stares down at the Fire Nation boy.

He wears only a pair of pants that might've been red once, but have faded to a rusty brown. His bare chest rises and falls laboriously, the muscles in his abdomen straining with effort. Despite herself, Katara feels a rush of pity settle in her gut. The boy—and, truly, he looks to be too old to referred to as a _boy_—does not look well. Frowning, Katara reaches up. She hesitates, fingers hovering above him. Swallowing drily, Katara reminds herself that she is _anything_ but a coward, and she reaches down, placing a palm on the center of his chest.

The boy stirs, groaning is what must be pure agony. But his eyes remain shut.

Katara inhales deeply, then closes her eyes and feels for his blood.

It is like diving directly into a person's body. She _feels_ his heart, thumping too fast…_feels_ the spiraling fractures in his wrist and leg…_feels _ the burns that line the side of his abdomen…_feels_ the wound where a knife must've entered, just below his ribs… Even worse, Katara can feel his fever, a temperature that is far too high for his body to withstand. Frowning, she moves her hand across his body, feeling, _searching_ for the infection that must be there.

Opening her eyes, she removes her hand slowly, placing it back in her lap. Her icy eyes stare down at the boy with confusion.

She does not sense any infection. Odd.

Sighing deeply, Katara stares down at the boy with discontent. He is going to need a _lot_ of healing. She will be working on him for hours…

Scowling, Katara turns to look at his face. His skin is so very pale, so very different from her own. Jet black hair falls to his shoulders. Katara cannot stop herself, she reaches up, gently placing her fingertips against his forehead as she brushes back his hair. The boy's hair is thick like her own, but straight and much more compliant. Studying his face, Katara suddenly moves her fingers down to grip his chin.

There is mark on his face, on the side she cannot she.

Gripping his chin, she turns his head toward her.

Katara freezes in place, hand still holding onto the boy's chin.

The scar is huge, covering his eye and cheek, all the way up to his hairline. The skin there is darker, redder, angrier. The area around his eye is the most damaged…how on earth the eye survived, she could never guess.

Katara stares at the Fire Nation boy for a few moments before grudgingly coming to the conclusion that—without the scar—he would be rather handsome.

And with the scar? She is not sure…he is a bit frightening.

Eyes scanning down his body, Katara eventually focuses on the slit in his skin just below the angle of his rib cage. She decides that she will fix that knife wound first…and spirits, Katara hopes that his lungs aren't damaged. Lungs are tricky, and she already has enough on her plate with his myriad of other problems.

Mulling things over in her head, Katara decides she will do his burns after the knife wound, and then finish with his broken wrist and leg. The bones will take the longest, as it will take her some time to stitch the marrow back together and remove all the fragments.

It's going to take her _days_.

Sighing deeply, Katara uncorks her water skin.

* * *

The first day she works on the boy, Katara is able to fix his stab wound. The burns are more extensive than she first realized, so she does not finish them. Her brother comes in as dawn approaches, eyes narrowed in disapproval. He tells her to rest. She rolls her eyes, but staggers to her feet and goes home anyway.

The second day, Katara is finally able to finish those damn burns just as night is falling. The blizzard has finally ended, and the entire village seems to breathe a sigh of relief. Katara eventually decides that the fractures can wait, and she turns to leave just as the elderly healers arrive. They say they will watch the boy for her. Katara smiles at that, but as she stomps through the snow back to her own home, she can't help but wonder about a particular scar.

The third day, Katara spends well over twelve hours putting the boy's bones carefully back together. It is agonizing work, and the boy cries out in pain several times. When she is done, Katara makes a decision. Reaching with her hand, she places it directly over his scar, feeling the hardened flesh. She summons her water to her and concentrates as hard as she can. It is no use. She cannot heal what is already dead.

The fourth day, the boy is still asleep, and Katara tries again anyway. This time, she feels for his blood under his scar, her water shining bright blue through the darkness of night. He howls in pain, and she reluctantly removes her hand, releasing his blood from her grip. Katara is surprised to find that she is extremely disappointed.

* * *

The first night, Zuko dreams of a woman with blue skin. Her eyes are orbs of the deepest black, and long, wavy hair of a matching darkness cascades down her back. He has to squint when he looks at her, as her whole body seems to ripple with light. At first he is afraid, but then she reaches out… When her fingers touch his chest, an unbearable cold blasts through his body, as if he just dove into ice water. But the pain is gone…the pain is gone.

The second night, Zuko dreams of his mother. He is a young child again, hiding under a desk in the library. He hears footsteps approaching, and panic causes him to freeze up, clutching his knees against his chest. But the hand that pulls back the table cloth is his mother's, and she smiles softly as she bends down to look him in the eye. Then his father enters the room, and his mother isn't smiling anymore.

The third night, Zuko dreams of fire. The palace of the Fire Lord, burning to the ground. The servants are dead, the soldiers are dead, even the damn turtleducks are blackened into ash. And it is his fault. He falls to his knees, reaching up and ripping at his hair as everything he has ever known _burns_. And then his skin is on fire, blazing across every inch of his body. Zuko laughs and his eyes turn black.

The fourth night, Zuko dreams of his father. He is kneeling before him, begging like a coward, and his father's lip curls in disgust. Red light flashes, and then the pain explodes in his face. Everything goes black as he screams and screams and screams. As his back hits the ground, Zuko wishes he was dead. Then he wishes his father was dead too.

* * *

Zuko's eyes snap open, and he leaps up off the ground so quickly that he ends up staggering and almost falling. His eyes frantically dart back and forth as he violently shivers—Zuko suddenly realizes that it is very _cold_. His teeth chatter as he jerks around, turning to look behind him.

It is a girl.

She is standing as still as stone, both hands up and covering her mouth in pure shock. He stares at her, and she stares back.

Her eyes are _blue_.

At first, Zuko is so stumped by this that he continues to stare at her, his mouth dropping open. He has never seen eyes like this… He had seen brown and gray always, and the Earth Kingdom people had sometimes had eyes of emerald. Then, of course, Fire Nation nobility had the brilliantly golden-yellow eyes that they were infamous for. But blue? It was…it was _ridiculous. _How could this even exist?

After a few moments of silence, Zuko does the only thing he can think of.

He runs.

Zuko sprints, his bare feet pounding against the floor.

"Hey!" The girl yells after him, "Wait, don't—!"

He ignores her, reaching out with one hand and shoving her as lightly as possible. It apparently wasn't lightly enough, for she crumples to the floor, landing on her side with a heavy thud. He doesn't have time to feel guilty before darting past the leather flap that covers the entrance.

As soon as he runs outside, he stumbles, falling to the ground.

Falling into…snow.

Zuko instinctly throws out his hands to catch himself, but it isn't enough. He lands face first into the freezing snow, sinking in so far that all he can see is white. He does not stop to think, he merely jumps back up to his feet. His bare chest is already beginning to turn blue, and then the wind blows and Zuko shudders so hard he is barely able to walk.

Where…where the hell is he?

He makes another few strides before tripping in the snow again. It is so thick that he has no hope of running through it, but he does not stop. His feet are beginning to numb, with his legs screaming in pain and the wind blowing so hard it feels like it is cutting into his skin. Panting heavily, Zuko turns his head toward the sky, desperately searching for the one thing that he _knows_.

The sun burns above him…but he cannot feel its warmth. This scares him.

Zuko looks to the side, and his eyes widen as he sees the people.

There…there are _lots_ of blue eyes. They all stare at him like he is mad. He supposes he can't blame them, after all, they are all bundled in furs. He is kneeling in the snow, naked except for a light pair of pants.

He is so cold now that his vision swims, the wind howling so loudly that he wants to reach up and cover his ears. But even that small act seems exhausting.

He hears footsteps behind him, and Zuko whirls around, throwing his fist without thinking.

It is the girl. He strikes her in the jaw so hard that she seems to fly through the air, landing in the snow a few feet away.

Once again, he does not have time to feel guilty.

There is a hand on his shoulder, and then Zuko finds himself being spun around.

A boy his age—a boy with blue eyes like hers—is staring at him.

Zuko briefly thinks that the boy looks very, very angry…

And then a club smashes against his skull. Zuko is out before he even hits the snow.

* * *

The Fire Prince groggily opens his eyes, blinking several times. The room is fuzzy and out of focus. He blinks some more, taking a few deep breaths. Wincing, he sits up very slowly, clenching his teeth as a wave of nausea hits his stomach. He takes a few more deep breaths, leaning forward, his hair falling into his eyes. Reaching up, he places his head gently on his left temple, trying not to cry out.

Damn…his head _hurts_.

"How do you feel?"

He looks to his left, squinting his eyes because even the dim light of the small fire is painful.

It's the girl. She is kneeling next to him, her hands in her lap. Her impossibly blue eyes are staring at him warily. He can't blame her for being suspicious…especially considering the ugly purple bruise that lines her jaw.

"Where…where is my uncle?" Zuko closes his eyes, concentrating on getting the words out. It is then that he suddenly realizes it isn't just his head…his entire body is throbbing with pain. His wrist, his leg, his side…hell, his stomach is rolling, the pain is so unbearable.

"Don't worry, he's safe." The girl tilts her head to the side, "How do you feel?"

"Where is he?" Zuko ignores her question, reaching up and throwing off the fur blanket that covers his legs. He places his palms on the ground and makes to stand up.

"T-take me to him. I want to see m-my uncle." Zuko's teeth are chattering from the cold—_damn_ _it_, couldn't they have lit a bigger fire?—as he tries to stand up. His legs wobble in protest, and he chokes somewhat. He swallows thickly, trying to keep his stomach contents from coming up.

The girl places a hand on his bare chest. She presses down gently, but with enough pressure that he begins to lie back down. Zuko decides that he must truly be hurt if this girl with the ocean eyes is able to push him down so easily.

"You shouldn't get up." The girl says softly, removing her hand from his chest, "You were hurt pretty bad. Your body needs some time to recover."

He glares at her, yellow eyes narrowing. Zuko doesn't know if he should trust this girl, but the pain is so incredibly horrible that he lies down anyway. Almost immediately the nausea subsides, and he inhales deeply in relief. His side, just above his hip, is searing with pain…and the dull ache in his wrist and leg pulses terribly. The pain just under his ribs is more sharp, and every movement he makes seems to make it flare up in rage. Damn, he hasn't been in this much agony since…since…

"How do you feel?" The girl asks again.

Zuko finds the question annoying. Judging from the sharpness in her tone, the girl is finding it annoying as well.

"My…leg hurts. And wrist. And…" He speaks slowly, trying hard just to say the words right. Even that takes a lot of effort.

"…and everything else?" The girl gives him a shrewd grin, "That's not surprising. You were in pretty rough shape when they found you."

He wants to ask who 'they' are, and how he was found. But Zuko is afraid that if he opens his mouth he might retch.

The girl stands up, turning away from him. He watches her as she walks away, for some reason feeling a fluttering in his chest. Could this barbarian girl with the ridiculous eyes be leaving him? Was she going to just let him stew in his pain, confined to a bed of furs?

He is surprised to find that he does _not_ want to be alone.

Zuko opens his mouth to call out to her, but he can't seem to muster the energy.

She is only gone for a few moments. Not even a minute, he realizes.

The girl kneels back down next to him, and Zuko turns his head to look at her.

Her skin is dark, much darker than any he has ever seen. Her brown hair is very long and wavy, with half of it tied up and the other half left to fall down her back. She seems to have some sort of strange hair loops in front of her face that lead back and are tied to a bun. From what he can tell, she looks about his age…though, he can't be sure. The sharpness of her features denies childhood, and the cut of her outfit seems…womanly.

Zuko decides that she is weird looking.

Her blue eyes are strange enough, but combined with brown skin and wild hair…she looks positively _unreal_.

"Here." The girl says as she reaches out with her hands. She is holding something, he discovers.

Because he can't think of what else to do, Zuko reaches out and wraps his fingers around the small stone cup. Bringing it to his face, he examines its contents. The liquid inside is a thick and viscous yellow syrup.

"W-what is it?" His words are beginning to slur, it is so difficult to speak.

"It will help your pain." She replies.

He stares at her hard, lips curling into a scowl.

"It's made from the root of a sea plant," The girl rolls her eyes in irritation, "It is a very powerful pain killer. And it will help you sleep."

"When can I see m-my uncle?" Zuko growls, fingers tightening on the cup.

"Take this medicine." The girl urges, placing her hands on her hips, "After you take it and sleep for a while, I'll take you to see your uncle."

He does not want to drink the strange liquid, but Zuko desperately wants to see his uncle. And right now he is far too weak to fight the girl. She does not _seem_ threatening…and if she wanted to hurt him, she could have certainly done so by now.

Tipping the cup forward, he presses it against his lips. The liquid is sickeningly sweet, but it goes down easily. Almost immediately, he can feel the warmth spreading up from his stomach and into his chest.

He lays his head back on the fur and closes his eyes.

The girl reaches down, gripping the blankets and pulling them back over his body.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews! Also, someone asked if this will be a Zutara. The answer is yes, most definitely, though its going to take some time to develop. There will also be a little bit of Taang and Sukka. I'm also going to go ahead and warn everyone...there's a very good chance this will change to an M rating in the future. Hopefully that's not a problem?**


	3. The Healers

This time when Zuko wakes, the girl is not there.

In her place is a short man with a thick neck. He is holding a nasty looking spear, gripping the wood with white knuckles. As Zuko blinks, staring at him, he gets the idea that the man is on edge. He stares back at Zuko with narrowed, untrusting eyes, lips locked into a straight line.

Sitting up, Zuko turns to the man, looking at him with apprehension.

"She said to bring you to your uncle." The man grunts, his voice deep and raspy.

Zuko nods. He doesn't need to ask who 'she' is.

He stands up slowly, legs quivering. To his embarrassment, Zuko stumbles, black spots clouding his vision. The man surprises Zuko by reaching out, placing a steady, calloused hand on his bare shoulder.

Zuko violently pulls away, shrugging off the man's touch.

They look at each other for a moment, silent. Zuko can feel his cheeks burning.

When he can't take it anymore, he drops his yellow eyes away from the man's gaze, turning towards the leather flap that covers the entrance to the tent. He takes a few steps forward, wincing as pain splinters down from his knee all the way to his ankle.

"Wait." The man growls.

Zuko stops and turns to face him.

The man gives another grunt and points with his spear at a pile of clothes that are folded neatly next to Zuko's sleeping furs.

_Blue_ clothes. Of course.

Zuko bends down, gripping the cloth with his fingers. He tugs on a matching set of pants and shirt, and then a thick parka that is lined with some sort of white animal fur. He takes a moment to briefly wonder what sort of beast had this kind of pelt—and then realizes that, whatever the creature is, the Water Tribe people must hunt and kill it often. Most of their clothes seemed to be lined with the same soft, pure white fur.

To finish, he tugs on a pair of heavy boots.

The man nods in approval and turns to leave. He passes under the leather flap, holding it open for Zuko to follow.

As soon as he steps outside, Zuko grits his teeth and holds up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

The _sun_. It is burning brightly today, far stronger than when Zuko had come running outside last. And, better yet, it's not even snowing.

Even after only a few moments outside, Zuko can already feel the sun's energy pulsing through his body. His heart slows, his head stops pounding, and even the pain in his leg begins to fade to a dull throb.

Exhaling slowly, a strange sense of euphoria fluttering in his stomach, Zuko turns.

The tribesman is looking at him with wide eyes. Like he had lost his senses.

Zuko supposed he must've looked strange, basking in the sun. What was it the Fire Sages taught him? The Water Tribe revered the moon and the tides? Something along those lines…

The man takes off, feet crunching through the snow. Zuko follows slowly behind him, looking back and forth.

He gets the feeling it is early morning. There are few people about, though every single one of them freezes in place and stares openly as Zuko walks by.

Like the healing girl and the short tribesman, the people all have dark skin and pale eyes. Some have skin of a deep, rich brown, and others are lighter, more tan than anything. But all are far darker than any person Zuko has ever seen. Also like the girl and the man, everyone's hair is some sort of brown—ranging from almost black to a light, ashy shade.

But it's their eyes that are most striking.

Zuko can see everything from pale, icy blue—like the girl's—to a deep, dark sapphire. A few times he makes eye contact with people who have gray eyes, though they all look away before he has time to look harder.

They are…they are so _strange_ looking.

Zuko suddenly realizes that they must think the same of him. That must be why they were all staring. He has never before seen a person from the Water Tribe …have they ever seen someone from the Fire Nation?

Probably not. His father has no interest in these barren lands…Zuko doubts any military have ever come even close to the poles. And certainly not any _civilians_.

As he and the tribesman pass by a group of men, Zuko can feel their odd eyes on him. The men are staring hard, each holding a spear, each with their hair tied back in wild ponytails. Some have braids, and some have knives and hatchets clipped to their belts. Zuko decides that they are probably warriors, judging by their weapons…and the wary way their eyes narrow when they look at him.

They all tense as he grows closer. Some even bring down their spears, gripping them with both hands in a low ready position.

The Fire Prince avoids their gaze, pretending to ignore them as he and the man he follows approach a tent much larger than the one he had been in.

The man bends down, grabbing onto the tent's flap and pulling it up, allowing Zuko to enter.

Zuko has to squint to see through the darkness—the fire lit in the center of the tent is rather small, offering just barely enough light for Zuko to make out two figures sitting on the far side. The floor is covered with furs and leather, and Zuko is silent as he steps forward, trying to decipher who is sitting in front of him.

"Lee!"

His uncle is sitting on the ground near the fire, legs crossed, hands placed in his lap.

"Uncle!" Zuko cannot help himself, he fights a smile as he rushes forward.

The man sitting next to Iroh causes Zuko to stop and go very still.

The tribesman is also sitting cross legged on the floor near the fire. He is older, though not nearly as old as Iroh. The lines cut into his face tell of years of hardship, but he is handsome in a roguish, barbaric sort of way. His brown, wild hair is halfway pulled back, with the rest of it not quite long enough to touch his shoulders. Two pieces of hair, falling near his face, have carved beads woven into them.

When he turns to look at Zuko, his eyes hold no fear.

"Lee," Iroh says the false name a little too loudly, "This is Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe."

Chief. That was…that was like a _king_ or something, right?

Zuko has spent enough time with his uncle to recognize the look he is giving him.

He forces himself to bow down, rigidly bending at the waist.

"So this is the nephew that Mushi has been telling me so much about." Hakoda says, smiling wide at Zuko, "I have to admit, I'm surprised you're already up and walking."

Zuko doesn't know what to say.

"You were in terrible shape when my warriors found you," Hakoda continues, his voice a slow rumble, "Katara told me you had broken bones, burns, and a knife in your chest."

"Katara?" Zuko finds the name foreign on his lips.

"My daughter." Hakoda nods, looking up at the still standing Zuko, "She's the one who's been healing you."

Someone clears their throat. Zuko spins around, unable to stop his hands from curling into fists. A boy, probably close to his age, must've walked in the tent while Hakoda was talking. The furs and leather made footsteps silent, but Zuko still didn't like the fact that this boy had managed to sneak up on him.

The Water Tribe boy is tall, with hair that is pulled back like every other man's. He is glaring at Zuko with hostility, eyes full of blue fire. There is a club attached to his belt, and he wears a warrior's blue tunic and pants.

"Katara is _also_ the one who you punched in the face." The boy sneers, taking a step forward.

Zuko winces. Regardless of how little he knew about the Water Tribe, he could guess that punching the chief's daughter in the face probably wasn't the best first impression.

"Lee," Hakoda stands up, nodding towards the angry boy, "This is my son, Sokka."

"Also known as the one who knocked you out after you punched Katara." The boy—Sokka—grins cruelly, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable Zuko has become.

Great. So, not only did he punch the Chief's daughter, he did it right in front of her brother. Who then knocked Zuko out like it was easy.

He had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time he would hear of this. The taunting glare Sokka gave him supported that feeling.

"I…er, I didn't…I would never…" Zuko fumbles over his words, his face turning hot.

"Don't worry yourself, Lee." Hakoda waves his hand in dismissal, smirking, "My daughter can take a lot harder hits than _that_."

Zuko can't tell if he should feel relieved or insulted.

"Come on Sokka," Hakoda walks past Zuko, heading towards the exit, "I'm sure Mushi and Lee would like to talk alone."

Sokka gives Zuko one last scowl before following his father out.

* * *

"Lee? Mushi?" Zuko rolls his eyes, crossing his arms against his chest, "That's the best you could come up with?"

"Forgive me, Prince Zuko. I was...pressed for time." Iroh chuckles, patting the fur next to him, "Come, sit with me. I believe we have a lot to talk about."

"Well, why don't we start with how the _hell_ we ended up at the South Pole?" Zuko huffs, agitated that his _uncle_ isn't more agitated.

Didn't he see the predicament they were? Didn't he understand where they were…_who they were with?_ How could he be just sitting there—wrapped up in Water Tribe clothes, cozy as could be—mingling with the damn chief of the Southern Water Tribe? As if they were old friends… Didn't he realize that that…_barbarian_ would probably gut them both if they found out who they were?

"Zuko," Iroh smiles up at him, "You look severely troubled. Please sit with me."

Even now, at twenty years old, Zuko cannot refuse his uncle. He drops down roughly, landing with a graceless thud. Like his uncle, he crosses his legs, placing his hands in his lap. The fire before them flickers, crackling. It's warmth and light are enough to make Zuko take a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"How…how did we end up here?" He asks slowly, turning to look his uncle in the eye. His black hair is tumbling to his shoulders, and Zuko has to reach up, pushing it out of his eyes.

"Do you remember what happened?" Iroh stares at him with golden eyes, "Do you remember how you were hurt?"

Zuko shakes his head, narrowing his eyes, "I remember…we were sailing through the southern waters. I…we were heading back to the Fire Nation. And then…and then…"

"And then Zhao attacked." His uncle reaches up, running his fingers through his gray beard, "Do you remember that?"

The Prince bites his bottom lip, remembering.

"_Commander Zhao?" Zuko glared at the man, fear and uncertainty filling his stomach, making him taste bile._

"_Prince Zuko." Zhao smirks at him, hands folded behind his back, "What a…surprise."_

"_What the hell are you doing here? Answer me!" Zuko demanded, his hands clenching into fists._

_He could already feel the fire sparking at his fingertips._

"I was on the deck." Zuko nods, bowing his head, staring at his hands, "Zhao found me…and he attacked me. We…we fought for a while."

"He stabbed you." Iroh frowns at the memory, "And then your crew turned on us."

_Zuko had fallen to the ground, screaming in pain. Looking down, he could see the silver flash of the knife, the metal buried into his flesh. Clenching his teeth, he reached down, wrapping his fingers around the handle. _

_He pulled. The blood that followed pooled under his back, staining the deck red._

_Zhao stood above him, lips curled, teeth bared. _

"I…where are they?" Zuko's hands clench into fists, fingers so tight that his nails are digging into his palm, "Where is Zhao? How did we get off the ship? They…_everyone_ was attacking us—"

"I fought them." Iroh sighs, turning to look into the fire, "I managed to drag you onto one of the lifeboats. I steered us south because I knew Zhao was heading north, back to the Fire Nation."

"I'll kill Zhao." Zuko looks up, looking at his uncle, "We'll get home, and then I'll tell father…and…and I'll hunt Zhao down. I'll drag him back to the Fire Nation and he will _hang_ for treason—"

"Prince Zuko." Iroh turns away from the fire, meeting his nephew's gaze, "We must proceed carefully. Commander Zhao is no fool…if he attacked two members of the royal family, we must assume that he had a coordinated plan. He did _not_ act brashly, and neither should we."

Zuko stares at him.

"What…what are you suggesting?" He says.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh sighs, closing his eyes, "I have pneumonia."

Zuko continues to stare.

His uncle does look thinner. His cheeks are not as round, and the Water Tribe parka is not as filled out as it should be. Iroh's skin has a gray cast to it, and—for the first time—Zuko realizes just how tired his uncle looks. The bags under his eyes are enough to make Zuko's heart beat faster.

"You're going to be ok, right?" He has a hard time asking, only because the thought of…the thought of his uncle _not _being ok…it is simply inconceivable.

"Oh Zuko," Iroh opens his eyes, smiling weakly, "Of course I'm going to be ok! The Water Tribe healers are the best healers in the world—"

"The _waterbenders_ were the best healers in the world." Zuko scowls, turning away, "And there's none left."

"Well…they healed _you_, did they not?" Iroh points out, "Hakoda's daughter is supposed to be the best of the best. Look at you, you were almost dead barely a week ago."

"Her care has been…adequate." Zuko shrugs reluctantly, "But what about you? How long until you can travel?"

His uncle reaches up, stroking his beard as he speaks, "I suppose it couldn't be more than a month or so—"

"A _month_?" Zuko's snarls, golden eyes widening, "Are you serious? You want us to stay with these—these _barbarians_ for a month?"

"Zuko." Iroh's voice turns hard, "Do not forget that these barbarians have healed you. They have fed and clothed you. If it weren't for them, you and I would both be dead."

Zuko crosses his arms, refusing to look at his uncle, eyes smoldering.

"They may seem strange to you, but they are a good people." His uncle continues, reaching out and placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder, "Hakoda is a kind man. I think, if you give him a chance, you may grow to like him."

"I don't care about the chief." Zuko grumbles quietly, staring at the furs he is sitting on, "Let's just…wait. When you get better, we'll go home."

Iroh is quiet for a moment, then speaks slowly, "If that is what you wish, Prince Zuko."

"And when we get home…I'll kill Zhao." Zuko hisses.

Iroh does not say anything.

Zuko uncrosses his legs and stands up.

"I want to talk to the healers." He says, looking down at his uncle, "I want to make sure they're doing everything they can for you."

"If you want." Iroh shrugs, "Though, I assure you, they are very competent."

"I'll come back when I'm done." Zuko turns, walking towards the door.

"Prince Zuko?" His uncle calls out to him.

Zuko pauses, looking over his shoulder.

"Since we are going to be spending some time here," His uncle smiles widely, "Perhaps it would be wise to learn the ways of the Water Tribe. You might be surprised at how much these people can teach you."

"Sure, whatever." Zuko rolls his eyes, even though Iroh can't see it.

"It would _also_ be wise to hide your firebending." His uncle says softly.

The Fire Prince nods and pulls open the tent flap, disappearing in silence.

* * *

**Please review! I'd like to know what you think!**


	4. The Fire Nation Boy

On the first day that Iroh is well enough to leave the healing tent, Hakoda invites them to dinner.

Zuko does not want to go. The Water Tribe chief makes him uncomfortable. The way Hakoda looks at Zuko—with stern, weathered eyes—makes him feel like the chief can see right through him. Can see right through the _lies_. He keeps his mouth shut around the chief, as he finds it's a lot harder to lie when he's around. That's well enough anyway, the lies are of Iroh's making, and Zuko has no problem letting his uncle do all the talking.

He tries to convince Iroh to let him stay back, but his uncle is adamant. He refuses to even consider the idea that Zuko might not come.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh waggles his finger at his nephew, "It would be extremely rude to refuse this offer. Hakoda has been nothing but kind to us."

Zuko reluctantly tugs on a thick parka. He knows there is no arguing with his uncle when it comes to proper decorum.

"Besides," Iroh smiles wide as he slides his hands into mittens, "How could we say no to some traditional, home cooked Water Tribe cuisine?"

Of course his uncle,—a member of the Fire Nation _royal family_—who is trapped in a god forsaken frozen hell with a tribe of savages that have—in the entire history of the world—_never_ gotten along with their people, can only be excited that he gets to try a new type of food. Oh no, of course Iroh doesn't lay awake at night, buried under twelve layers of fur and _still_ shivering, thinking about the possibility that the chief might discover he is housing the crown prince of the damn Fire Nation. Of course Iroh doesn't worry that the chief might decide to sick his wolf warriors on the weakened Fire Nation royals and harpoon them to death.

Iroh doesn't worry about these things at all, because he thinks Hakoda is a good person.

Well, Zuko knows better.

It takes a cunning, deadly people to survive in a wasteland like the tundra. He will not underestimate this Water Tribe.

When they trek across the grounds, Zuko suddenly realizes that the snow is thinner. What used to crunch under their footsteps has, instead, become a watery slush. The sun shines brightly overhead, its light reflecting off the snow and ice.

It is getting warmer, Zuko suddenly realizes. Though, certainly not warm enough for his tastes.

Hakoda's tent is easy to pick out. Located on the far south end of the grounds, it is probably twice the size of most of the other family tents.

When they enter, the chief is there to greet him. There is a friendly smile on Hakoda's face, and he places his hand on Iroh's shoulder, steering him toward what looks to be the center area of the tent. There is a low stone table, with fur cushions set around it, and food piled high enough for ten people. Hakoda helps Iroh sit down, and then motions towards the cushion next to him. Zuko takes the hint and sits down next to his uncle, crossing his feet and staring into his lap.

He doesn't know what to say. Fortunately, Iroh does, and he immediately strikes up a conversation with the chief about their sister tribe in the north. Zuko listens at first, trying hard to look like he's paying attention, but after a few moments his mind—and his eyes—begin to drift.

The tent is rather bare. Unlike all the other tents he's been in so far, this one seems like it has separate rooms. There are a few flaps covering these separate areas, and Zuko can't help but wonder what's in them. Turning his gaze, Zuko's eyes settle on the table in front of him. He doesn't recognize much of the food…there appears to be a large pot of some kind of soup that smells very salty. There are also a few racks of ribs, though, what animal they came from, Zuko can't even guess. On the other side of the table are some plates of jerky, and one large plate full of bright red fish—

"Katara!"

Zuko acts before he can stop himself.

His eyes snap up, and he stares. He stares longer than he should.

She stands before the table, cradling dark bowls against her chest. Without her parka on, she looks so much smaller. Now the she is here, standing so close to Hakoda, Zuko can see the resemblance. She has his same brown skin, same eyes that are so pale they look like ice. Even her hair is thick and wild like her father's, though today she wears it in a braid.

"Finally." Hakoda sighs good-naturedly, "Now we can actually eat."

"Yes, well, _maybe_ if you or Sokka actually helped me cook sometime you wouldn't have to sit around waiting for me." She huffs indignantly.

"Katara do you remember the last time Sokka tried to cook?" Hakoda shudders, shaking his head, "Unless you want him to end up chopping off a chunk of his thumb again—"

"Oh don't worry," Katara rolls her eyes, smiling, "I know better than to let him—or _you_, actually—anywhere near cooking food."

"Where is Sokka?" Iroh turns to ask, "I'm surprised he's not here…his appetite is legendary, so I've heard."

"He's off on a seal hunt with the rest of the younger men." Hakoda sighs again, though this time he sounds more dejected, "First time I decided not to go with them…"

Katara begins to move around the table, setting down the bowls in front of them.

When she gets to Zuko, he forces himself to look up at her. Katara reaches out and she bends down, gently setting the bowl onto the table.

"Katara, this is my nephew, Lee." Iroh breaks the silence.

"Yes, we've met." Katara's voice is curt as she leans back.

Zuko waits for her to say more, but she doesn't. She merely walks around the table, sitting down next to her father and directly across from Zuko.

Fortunately, Iroh and Hakoda seem content to carry on the conversation. The two older men talk throughout the meal, in between shoveling down food. Iroh's eye light up with delight as he eagerly tries a small amount of every dish on the table. Katara remains next to silent, picking at her food as she stares at her plate.

Zuko gets the distinct feeling that she's just as uncomfortable as he is. Every once in a while, her eyes dart up and meet his, and then they both look away quickly.

At first Zuko is hesitant, but his rumbling stomach soon demands food. He tries the soup and finds it so salty that he wonders if they boiled it from seawater. But it is hot, so he decides to drink it down anyway, enjoying the feeling of the warmth sliding down his throat and settling in his stomach. After much persuasion, and quite a bit of reassurance from Hakoda, he decides to try the red fish. Slipping a small bite into his mouth, Zuko chews slowly. To his surprise, the seared fish is actually quite delicious. After he swallows, he reaches over and slides more into his bowl.

Hakoda and Iroh seem to greatly enjoy each other's company. Hakoda speaks of all the different types of fish and other sea things his people eat, while Iroh listens with rapt attention. Towards the end of the meal, Iroh begins to tell Hakoda about all the fruit in their homeland, how delicious their vegetables are, and how this island in the southern Fire Nation just has the most _delicious_ stuffed peppers…

Then Hakoda asks what a pepper is, and the two men laugh outrageously.

"Katara," The chief continues to chuckle, turning toward his daughter, "Do you think you could do some old men a favor and get us more hot water? There should be some brewing in the back…"

Katara nods and rises silently, turning and heading toward the back of the tent. She disappears behind a fur flap into what must be another room.

"Lee," Iroh's eyes shift towards his nephew, "Why don't you go help her?"

Zuko's eyes narrow, and he scowls deeply at his uncle.

Iroh smiles back at him, and Zuko forces himself to stand up, heading to where he saw the girl disappear to.

He ducks under the flap just like she did, and when he sees her he finds himself locking in place.

The back room is small, with an opening cut in the top part of the tent. The sun that shines down lights up the entire room. The girl has her back to him, but she turns around, holding a large stone jug. It is so big that she has to hold it with both hands. The damn room is so small that he is standing close in front of her, maybe only a few feet away.

They both stare at each other.

Up close, he suddenly realizes that she is much shorter than him. At least several inches. Were all Water Tribe women this small?

"Why are your eyes yellow?" She blurts out, suddenly breaking the silence.

He is so surprised by the question that at first he doesn't answer.

Her cheeks go red, "I-I'm sorry, that was rude. I've just…I've never seen someone with yellow eyes before."

"It's fine." He shakes his head, "I've never seen someone with blue eyes before."

"Really?" She tilts her head to the side, looking up at him, "Nobody in the Fire Nation has blue eyes?"

She sounds skeptical. He supposes that he can't blame her.

"Actually…I don't think anyone but the Water Tribe has blue eyes." Zuko says slowly.

She goes quiet in response, staring at him with searching eyes, as if trying to decipher if he was lying or not.

"What color eyes does everyone have, then?" Katara asks after a few moments of thinking, "Yellow? Like yours?"

"No." He shakes his head again, "Gold eyes run in…my family. Only some people in the Fire Nation have them."

It's not a lie, just half the truth. Only those nobles who have traces of the royal blood running through them have the signature golden eyes.

"Oh." She nods as if this makes sense, "What about everyone else?"

"Um, they're usually brown…or gray." He shrugs, wondering how on earth he ended up in the South Pole talking about eye colors with a Water Tribe girl, "A lot of people from the Earth Kingdom have green eyes."

Her own eyes widen, as if the thought of someone having green eyes never occurred to her.

Zuko suddenly realizes that she's probably never left the Southern Water Tribe.

"They're probably wondering where we are." Katara tightens her grip on the jug, heading back toward the fur flap. She walks past Zuko calmly, though he can tell she is watching him from the corner of her eye.

When he walks back out into the dining area, she is already pouring Hakoda and Iroh their water. Zuko takes his seat next to Iroh, settling down in silence. To his surprise, Katara does not return to her own seat. Instead she bows to her father, and he nods at her. She turns and heads toward the tent's exit, bending down to scoop up her parka off the floor.

"Where is she going?" Iroh asks, turning to Hakoda.

"To the tundra." Hakoda shrugs, lifting his cup of steaming tea, "She likes to go out there."

"Alone?" Iroh frowns, "Isn't it dangerous?"

"Katara has always been able to take care of herself." Hakoda says with a small, sad smile. He brings his cup to his lips, tilting it back to drink.

Zuko watches as Katara pulls up the flap, dipping underneath it.

The rest of the time, as Hakoda and Iroh drink their water, Zuko sits and wonders what the Water Tribe girl could possibly be doing out in the frozen tundra all by herself.

* * *

"_Dad._"

"No Sokka. I have made up my mind."

It's been two full weeks since the Fire Nation men arrived, three days since Sokka and the rest of the boys got back from their seal hunt, one hour since Sokka asked Katara if she wanted to go spear fishing, and about four minutes since Hakoda demanded that they bring the scarred Fire Nation boy with them.

"Dad, he probably doesn't even want to spear fish!" Sokka groans, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically.

Hakoda has his arms crossed against his chest, and _that look_ on his face.

That look that means his mind is set and Sokka is wasting his breath.

"All that boy does is stay cooped up with his uncle." Hakoda shakes his head, lips set in a tight frown, "He needs to get out. There's no way staying in that healing tent all the time is good for him."

"Dad, he stays in the tent because he _wants_ to." Katara says evenly, placing her hands on her hips.

"He only _wants_ to because he's terrified of everyone!" Hakoda growls, glaring back and forth between his two children, "Imagine how you would feel…in a completely new place, surrounded by foreign people you don't know, just recovering from almost dying."

"Ok yeah, that's all sad and scary and stuff, but what does that have to do with_ spear fishing?" _Sokka continues.

"He needs to get out of that tent." Hakoda scowls, pointing a finger at his son, "Some time with kids his own age will do him some good."

Katara has to suppress the urge to remind her father that she is _twenty_ and her brother is _twenty-two_. Hardly kids.

Sokka looks extremely exasperated. When he turns to Katara, she shrugs. She honestly doesn't care either way if the Fire Nation boy comes along or stays…but really, he probably _doesn't_ know how to spear fish…

"Dad," Sokka pleads, turning back to his father, "Come on, do we really, seriously, absolutely have to—"

It is at that moment that a Fire Nation boy comes stumbling into their tent, almost tripping over his own feet.

If Katara didn't know any better, she would've guessed that someone shoved him in.

"Um, hey, Lee here." The boy reaches up, awkwardly rubbing at his hair, "My, uh, uncle said I had to—I mean, he said you wanted me to go…spear fishing or something?"

He's all dressed and ready to go, wearing a full winter parka and thick, water proof boots.

As it turns out, even Sokka doesn't have the heart to tell him no.

* * *

The water is a deep, dark sapphire, and their small canoe cuts through the waves silently. The sun is bright overhead, telling of the coming summer. Ice floes bob to either side of them, with the tundra stretching out to the south and the vast ocean to the north. Even the sky above them is clear, with not a single cloud in the sky.

Despite the gleaming sun and open sky, the fur lined parka and insulated underclothes, the Fire Nation boy is still shivering.

Katara can't help but pity him. He wouldn't last one winter in her homeland.

Sokka steers the craft expertly, easily dodging any rocks or ice that came in their path. In the beginning, the Fire Nation boy looked afraid—or nervous, at the very least. But he relaxes quickly, and then soon his obvious fear vanishes. As they come to the mouth of the river, the boy turns and looks behind them, his eyes on the quickly receding coast. He stares for a few moments, before turning back around, lips set in a frown.

"Where are we going?" He asks, looking at Katara.

She is sitting in the bow, facing the two boys, her back to the ocean and her front to the coastline. Because they had an odd number, only two needed to paddle. She had initially taken the bone paddle in hand, but the Fire Nation boy had shot her an offended look. She had taken the hint, and asked if he wanted to paddle with Sokka. He hadn't answered, but took the paddle from her and sat in the middle of the craft, between the two siblings.

Sokka refuses to ever let anyone else steer. Plus the boy doesn't know where they are going…and he was so inexperienced, he'd likely drive them into an ice berg.

"To the ocean." Katara answers, "Were looking for a leopard-sturgeon. They're only in the deeper waters."

"Oh." The boy says, turning and looking out towards the ocean, "Do we…do we have to go far out?"

"Why," Sokka snickers, "You afraid of a little water?"

"No." The boy growls in response, the good side of his face turning red, "I just…this boat seems too small to go out very far—"

"We're not going out far." Katara interrupts, "The leopard sturgeon stay close to the coast to feed off the smaller fish. They don't go up river very often."

The boy doesn't say anything in response, but he continues to shove his paddle in and out of the water.

The wind picks up suddenly, and Katara has to reach up and push a few strands of hair out of her face. The boy draws his arms in, and then his body violently shakes. He's wearing a thick, fur lined parka, and—judging from what she can see—Katara thinks he is wearing long undergarments. Even his boots are the thickest the Water Tribe have available, and _still_ the boy looks like he's freezing…

Katara can't help herself, she begins to giggle.

The boy's yellow eyes snap up at her, "What's so funny?"

Sokka answers before Katara can: "She's laughing because you're wearing winter clothes in the summer, and you're still cold."

"_Summer_?" The boy groans, "Are you serious?"

"Well, actually it's just the start of summer." Katara says with an apologetic smile, "The official first day of summer is the next full moon…in five days."

"Does that have something to do with the new tent they're putting up?" The boy asks, tilting his head to the side as he continues to look at Katara.

The look he gives her is calculating, curious.

He must've been wondering for the past few days. Honestly, she is surprised that he noticed the poles that were being put up…like her father had said, the boy hardly ever came out of the healing tent. He must've been more perceptive than she realized.

"Yes, that's for the summer celebration." Katara nods slowly.

"Summer celebration?" Now that the boy has started talking, he seems to have a lot of questions.

Katara begins to suspect that he has had a lot of questions all along…just nobody to answer them.

"Yeah, yeah," Sokka answers, "The summer celebration is just a big excuse to get drunk and dance around the fire—"

"Sokka!" Katara puts her hands on her hips, glaring at her brother.

"Get drunk?" The boy perks up at this, pausing in his rowing to turn around and look at Sokka, "Dance?"

"Yeah everyone drinks all the vodka we have left and then we take off our clothes and dance around the fire pit." Sokka grins, a gleam in his eye.

"You take off your clothes?" The Fire Nation boy's yellow eyes widen.

"It's a symbol of the beginning of summer." Katara interjects, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, "Everyone goes to the celebration wearing their winter clothes, and then after the feast we take them off and dance in our summer outfits. It's the only time of the year that it's warm enough for us to do that."

The boy doesn't say anything, but he looks thoughtful, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth turned into a curved frown.

Sokka finally calls them to a halt. They are far enough from the coast that it looks like a simple white streak against a blue backdrop, separating the pale sky and stormy ocean. The canoe bobs up and down gently, and Katara is thankful that it is a calm day. She'd been out with her brother before when it was so rough that waves would slap them in the face as they fished.

Bending over, her brother rummages through the gear that they brought, pushing aside a hand woven net. He picks up a fake bait fish, a frilly green thing that is the size of his hand. Katara cannot help but smile as Sokka begins to tie their fishing line onto it, looping the string several times around the bait.

The scarred boy blinks in confusion, then turns around to look at her, "Don't you…don't you use hooks?"

She shakes her head, "Not for this kind of fish."

"We'll drop the bait in close to the surface," Sokka says, eyes still focused on his tying, "Then, when the leopard sturgeon comes up to bite it, we'll spear him."

The boy frowns again, "That seems…difficult."

"Its really not." Sokka finally looks up. He picks up one of the bone spears, raising it up to eye level and pointing it towards the boy as he speaks, "The leopard sturgeon is really big. We only need to catch one…actually, we could only _fit_ one in the canoe. Katara will hold the bait, and when it comes up, you and I can spear him."

He holds the spear out, offering it.

The Fire Nation boy grabs it slowly, pulling it up to his face so he can inspect it closer.

"It's tied to rope." Sokka points to the blunt end of the spear, "Wrap it around your hand before you spear the fish, that way you can hold on if it tries to swim away. But, if both me and you spear it good on our first try, it should die pretty quickly. Then all we have to do is haul it into the boat!"

"But…but what if I miss? What if I miss spearing it?" The boy asks, doubt in his voice.

"Lee," Sokka chuckles, "It's a _really_ big fish. Trust me, you won't miss."

Katara can't help but smile quietly to herself.

Her brother may insist that he can't stand that 'Fire Nation scum'…but he seems to really enjoy explaining spear fishing to him.

It helps that the boy—_Lee_, Katara reminds herself—is listening with rapt attention. His eyes are narrowed in concentration, and he is examining the bone spear as if he is actually, truly interested.

Wrapping the rope around his hand, he looks up and nods at Sokka.

Her brother then hands her the bait, and Katara turns, tossing it into the water and dutifully hanging on to the end of the line. She pulls it gently every few minutes, and this leads to Sokka explaining to Zuko that it is meant to mimic a swimming fish. Then that turns into a conversation about how the leopard sturgeon's favorite meal is a type of winged fish that commonly swims at the surface. And of course, this causes Sokka to explain that this is why they use this technique with this fish.

They sit for two hours before Lee asks how long it will take. Katara notices his wincing when she tells him that sometimes it can take up to six hours.

Sokka, at least, seems to have warmed up to the Fire Nation native. He eagerly explains their various fishing techniques, and then Lee begins to talk of how the Fire Nation catches fish. After the third hour of waiting, the two boys eventually begin to compare Fire Nation and Water Tribe food. By the fourth hour of bobbing in the ocean, Katara suddenly realizes that her brother and the boy do not have any difficulty talking anymore, and—spirits, her father won't be able to believe she's admitting this—the Fire Nation boy is actually quite amiable. Once he opens up. Which takes a while, Katara has discovered.

Perhaps he really was as lonely as Hakoda thought.

"There!" Katara cries out suddenly, halfway through the fourth hour.

To the right side of the craft, barely visible through the sapphire water…are spots.

"Is that it?" Lee is leaning over the side, both his good eye and bad eye squinting.

"That's it!" Sokka leaps up, spear in hand, "Get ready!"

Everyone in the boat tenses, all three pairs of eyes diligently staring into the water. Both the boy and her brother are gripping their spears tightly, knees bent in a ready crouch. Katara faithfully holds onto the line, tugging it every now and then, trying hard to keep it close to the boat.

There is a break in the water. A flash of white, foamy water…then a sharp, black fin…

"Now!" Sokka shrieks, stabbing his spear forward.

A lot of things happen very quickly.

Katara turns to her side, wrapping the line over her shoulder, teeth gritting as she holds on as hard as she can. Lee and Sokka both shoot their spears forward with such speed that Katara doesn't even realize they've hit the fish until the water turns crimson. The boy's spear has hit the fish directly towards the top of its head, and Sokka's spear pierces right through the beast's side. The thing flaps back and forth violently, its great spotted body convulsing as the fish's life spills out from it.

All three of them pull as hard as they can. The fish begins to slow down, it's tail twisting clumsily. With each passing second the creature grows weaker and weaker. As they pull on the ropes, hauling the thing from the water, it gives one last violent swish of its tail…

Splashing salty water onto all three of them.

Lee turns and sputters, but—to his credit—he does not let go. They pull and pull and pull, and then they finally have the thing out of the water. They pull one last time, and then the fish tumbles into the boat. By now it has gone mostly still, its gills not even moving anymore. Its tan body is covered in circular black spots, and its black fins quiver weakly as they pull it onto its side. The leopard sturgeon snaps at Katara a few times, but it is so disoriented that she easily dodges its razor sharp teeth.

After only seconds, it finally goes completely still.

The three look between each other.

They are all panting and dripping wet. Sokka has a piece of seaweed stuck to his neck. Katara's hair has mostly come out of its braid, tangling around her face. Lee's got a big pink mark on his cheek from where the fish struck him with its tail. They are all shivering, covered in salt and bleeding at the hands from holding onto the rope.

Sokka begins to laugh. Then Katara laughs.

The Fire Nation boy doesn't laugh, but he does give a small smile.

* * *

**Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewing! I seriously appreciate it, reviews are just pure awesomeness!**

**A couple people asked about Toph and Aang. I'll tell you this: the next big chunk of the story takes place in the Southern Air Temple. After that, the story moves to the Fire Nation, then the Earth Kingdom, then back to the Fire Nation. So...you can probably guess at what points certain characters will be introduced. Yeah, Aang's coming up, but we got a while before Toph comes in. **

**Zutara starts next chapter! Woohoo!**


	5. The Southern Water Tribe

It is about three weeks after awakening in the South Pole that Zuko finds himself pacing back and forth in his uncle's tent. He is wearing a pair of loose pants that are a much deeper, more vibrant shade of blue than Zuko normally sees the tribal people in. Along with the pants, he wears a heavy fur pelt tied around at his hip. The clothes are Sokka's, and—though the Water Tribe boy is skinnier than Zuko—they fit perfectly.

Zuko had not asked to borrow the boy's clothes. It was Sokka who approached him, _insisting_ that Zuko had to wear the finest clothes possible for the summer celebration.

Apparently dressing up was half the celebration itself.

Sokka had also offered to paint Zuko's face and chest, but the prince had adamantly refused. He felt uncomfortable enough wearing the boy's clothes…he wasn't sure if he could tolerate allowing Sokka near his face with a bunch of white and black paint.

Not to mention he couldn't shake off the feeling that his father would roast him on the spot if he knew Zuko had painted his face and danced around a fire like some sort of _savage_.

"Are you almost ready, Prince Zuko?"

He turns to face his uncle, trying to suppress a scowl.

He has no desire to attend this…festival, or whatever it was. And of course his uncle was absolutely thrilled and had been looking forward to it for the past week.

Celebration or not…Zuko wanted to go _home_. He was tired of being cold, tired of wearing fur instead of armor, tired of seeing nothing but white snow when he was used to green jungle.

"You look very handsome, Zuko." Iroh smiles at him, "It was very kind of Hakoda's son to lend you something to wear."

Zuko doesn't say anything, choosing simply to stare at his uncle.

Iroh is wearing a deep purple tunic. The front is covered with ivory beads arranged in an intricate, circular net pattern. There must've been hundred of beads woven into the fabric, and—though Zuko knows next to nothing about Water Tribe fashion—even he can see that the tunic is exquisitely made, the result of tireless work and devotion.

Such an exotic, handmade piece would cost a _fortune_ in the Fire Nation.

Hakoda had given it to Iroh, and though nobody said anything outright, Zuko could tell from the looks Katara and Sokka had given that it was not a light gesture. Whatever it was, the tunic was clearly of the finest quality and represented something special…Iroh had been ecstatic about wearing it.

It wasn't until later that Sokka explained to Zuko that the net design of the beads was meant to trap any evil spirits that try to enter his uncle's body.

It is meant to protect the sick.

Zuko isn't sure how to interpret that.

"Hurry nephew," Iroh turns and begins walking towards the exit of their tent, "The feast is to begin soon. Put on your cloak and let's go!"

His uncle is so excited that it makes Zuko want to gag.

The prince turns and pulls on a blue top that matches his pants. His tunic has feathers woven into it, though it is a much simpler design than the one his uncle wears.

Lastly, he tugs on a new pair of brown leather boots.

His uncle then practically drags him outside.

* * *

The temporary tent that the Water Tribe people have erected for the festivities is _huge_.

It is in the center of the tribe's grounds, and twice as tall as any of the other tents. As he and his uncle approach, their feet stomping through the light dusting of snow on the ground, Zuko suddenly realizes that the tent is large enough for the _entire tribe_. Even from far away, he can see the orange and yellow light of the fire shining from out of the enormous tent. There are four entrances to the tent—one for each of the cardinal directions—and people are entering all of them.

As soon as he sees the people, Zuko can feel his throat growing dry.

They all stare. When he and Iroh approach, all of their heads turn, blue and gray eyes watching them intently as they approach the south entrance. He wonders if they stare because they are Fire Nation…because of his scar…or perhaps because they very rarely left the healing tent, and so few people had actually seen them.

Either way, Zuko turns his head, casting the scarred half of his face in darkness.

Old habits die hard.

It is a pleasant night, far warmer than usual. The sun is halfway through its descent, turning the sky into shades of dark violet and indigo. Even now, just as the sun is beginning to disappear, the moon is round and bright, casting a white shadow.

Even though there is still snow on the ground, Zuko notices that many of the Water Tribe people are wearing thin clothing.

They are _crazy_, he decides. After all, when the wind blows it's still enough to make his nose and cheeks go numb.

He follows his uncle, trying his hardest to ignore the looks they are getting. Iroh doesn't seem to even notice as he smiles and nods in greeting to everyone he passes.

When they enter the tent, Zuko freezes.

The fire in the center of the tent is monstrous, large enough that Zuko can feel the heat of it even from where he stands in the far corner. The light it emits is bright enough that he raises his hand, shielding his eyes.

When he is finally able to blink, able to adjust…he sees the _people_.

There must be over two hundred of them, all sitting in a large circle around the fire. There are furs and leather placed everywhere, so people sit directly on the ground, right in front of small tables. Food is piled high on the tables: walrus meat, fish of dozens of species, huge cauldrons of steaming and frothing soup, racks of ribs of an animal that Zuko does not know, huge trays of raw fish wrapped in seaweed, clams and oysters that are piled so high that Zuko cannot see over them, and some sort of shellfish that is the size of a small child.

And…the _people_.

Everyone is wearing their finest clothing, covering shades of purple, blue, and even teal and turquoise and cerulean. Some people wear cloaks lined with feathers, others have caps made of white and black striped furs, and even others still wear fur coats of pure black.

The women wear skirts and sleeveless shirts, while the men wear pants and loose, baggy tops. Most of the people have their faces painted too: some men have their faces painted like fearsome animals, others have their bare arms darkened with delicate drawings of fish dancing in water, and some bear small designs of the crescent moon and stars on their necks. The women, for the most part, have lighter, less intricate designs, that are far less conspicuous. However, Zuko does spy an older women with her entire face painted to look like a snarling ice panther.

Zuko stares for so long that his uncle actually places his hand on Zuko's shoulder, turning him and steering him towards the northern end of the tent.

"Ah, there is Hakoda." Iroh grins, pointing towards what is obviously the head table.

As they draw closer, Zuko realizes that there are two empty seats to Hakoda's left.

"Mushi! Lee!" Hakoda stands up as they approach, "Please, come and sit. The feast will begin soon."

For the first time, Zuko understands why Hakoda is the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe.

The chief wears a gray headdress designed to look like a wolf, complete with sharp canine teeth. The clothing that he wears is lined with wolf fur, and emblazoned across his chest is a yellow moon symbol woven with large beads.

He embodies the wolf spirit so completely—what with his intelligent eyes and roguish appearance—that Zuko wonders for a moment what the Fire Sages would say about Chief Hakoda.

Probably that he was evil, a wolf demon incarnate.

Iroh sits next to Hakoda, and—as Zuko sits down next to Iroh—he suddenly realizes that it is Sokka who sits directly to Hakoda's right.

The boy is barely recognizable. The gray, white, and black paint that he wears on his face is drawn to mimic a wolf.

Zuko begins to think that the wolf is the symbol of the Southern Water Tribe. But nobody, he sees, wears the likeness of the wolf except Hakoda and Sokka.

It must be a symbol of the ruling family.

He does not get time to ask or even greet Sokka, because suddenly the boom of drums begins to thunder.

To the far side of the tent are two lines of maybe ten large drums, and next to them, an entire assortment of people playing various instruments. Most appear to be some type of drum, though there are some people with small, carved things that look like flutes. The men beat the drums slowly at first, and then the pace picks up, slowly but steadily getting faster and faster.

Soon, the drum beat is heavy enough that it makes Zuko's bones shake.

The plates of food begin to vibrate, and right when it gets almost too loud to tolerate, it stops, going completely silent.

Hakoda stands up, arms held wide open.

Everyone is completely silent. All two hundred of the men and women watch Hakoda intently.

"My brothers and sisters," Hakoda begins, his voice loud enough to show the power behind it, "Tonight is a night of happiness! Tonight is a night to mark another winter season gone! Tonight…we celebrate…the _summer_!"

The people cheer, clapping, some howling in high-pitched voices.

"My people," The Chief continues, and the people immediately go quiet again, "Tonight is the marking of the beginning of summer. Tonight, we have much to be happy for. The winter is over and the hardest of times are, for now, behind us!"

More cheers. Boys in the back, close to Zuko's age, whistle loudly while they bang their fists on the tables.

"But we have more than just the summer to honor tonight," Hakoda turns, and—for a brief moment—his eyes catch Zuko's, "Three weeks ago, two Fire Nation men washed up on our icy shores. One almost dead…and the other? Too sickly to even walk…"

The people do not cheer this time. They all watch Hakoda with rapt attention.

"But the spirits smiled upon these two men," The Chief grins, turning his attention back to his people, "Our greatest healers were able to help them. And now, here they sit, guests among us…in perfect health!"

To Zuko's surprise, the people do cheer again. They whistle, and they bang, and they yell, and they howl…

"These men are very fortunate, just as we have been." Hakoda's face splits into an arrogant smile, "But that's enough talking from me…let us eat!"

The crowd roars loudly as Hakoda sits back down.

By now, Zuko knows which foods he likes and which he does not.

As the people begin to reach for the food in front of them, the noise begins to die down. Zuko pours himself a bowl of soup, and then scoops some of the red fish onto his plate. The people around him all talk, including his uncle—who, it seems, loves telling Fire Nation myths and legends to the tribesmen. To their credit, the Water Tribe men who sit around Zuko and Iroh listen attentively, and—if Zuko didn't know any better—he would say that they were truly interested.

He eats in silence, unsure of what to say to anyone.

At least nobody bothers him. Even Sokka seems too preoccupied to try and get Zuko's attention.

The food is good—no, very good. To his own surprise, Zuko finds that he is beginning to acquire a taste for Water Tribe cuisine. The red fish is better than any available in the Fire Nation…not to mention, raw fish of such fine quality would cost a fortune over there. As he turns to the hot soup, Zuko picks up the bowl and brings it to his lips. The liquid is so hot that he can feel the heat settle in his belly—it is comforting, and right away Zuko can feel the strength of it.

"Lee!"

Zuko looks up from the soup, finding Sokka's painted face staring back at him.

"Come on," Sokka reaches over, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder, "I got some good stuff for us."

"Good stuff?" Zuko doesn't fight back as Sokka raises him to his feet.

"Yeah," The Water Tribe boy laughs, "Vodka from the Northern Water Tribe."

Zuko shakes his head, "I don't really think—"

"Come on Lee!" Sokka shrugs, "They're about to move the tables anyway…it's time for some drinks!"

Zuko turns and can see that some of the warriors are beginning to clear off the tables, and then push them aside. He does not know why they're doing this, but it means that he's going to have to get up soon. Turning back, Zuko looks for his uncle, but Iroh is nowhere to be found.

He does not want to drink, but he does not want to be left alone either.

Nodding in defeat, he turns and follows as Sokka leads him away from the dinner.

* * *

_Fuck._

Zuko's vision is blurry, and the ground is rippling under his feet.

The boys standing around him are laughing at something that wasn't funny at all. He can't remember what it was, and—for some reason—Zuko does find _that_ funny, so he begins to laugh too.

Then Sokka hands him another glass.

Zuko looks up, and he wants to say no—really, he does—but when he sees that all the others have glasses too, he decides to keep his mouth shut.

Sokka raises his glass in the air, and the rest of them do too. Sokka says something that Zuko can't here, then he smiles and tips the glass back. Zuko hurriedly mimics him before his brain can tell him no, bringing the glass to his lips.

The vodka burned the first few times, but now Zuko actually likes the bite of it. He doesn't even grimace as he swallows.

"So, what do you think, Lee?" Sokka comes up, stumbling as he throws his arm over Zuko's shoulders, "Do you like Water Tribe Vodka?"

Sokka's wolf paint is smudged, but somehow that makes it look even more fearsome. Zuko thinks that the Water Tribe war paint would give Fire Nation children nightmares if they ever saw it.

Maybe that's why the Fire Sages always say the Water Tribes are full of nothing but bloody barbarians.

Zuko nods, looking at Sokka, "I like it—"

"Of course you like it," One of the other boys, one with braids, rolls his eyes as he speaks, "You and Sokka took down a whole bottle for yourselves!"

The rest of the boys laugh, and Zuko can't help but smile along with them.

"Uh oh," Another boy, one with a thin scar over his jaw, turns toward Sokka, "Sokka, your sister's dancing…"

"Ugh, don't remind me." Sokka throws his head back, dramatically pulling at his hair.

This makes everyone roar with laughter. Zuko blinks in confusion.

"Is Katara a bad dancer?" He turns to the boy with braids, who is standing next to him.

For some reason, this question only makes the boy laugh harder.

"Take a look for yourself." The braided boy raises his glass, pointing out towards the fire.

They have cleared out all of the tables by now. The drums have started back up again, and it is so loud that Zuko almost feels like his heart is beating in time with the music.

There are people dancing around the fire.

The beat is fast, and their feet move quickly, bodies swaying with the drums. It is mostly women, all with their hands in the air, moving so fluidly that is was difficult to tell where one body ends and another begins. The shadows from the dancers flood the floor and walls, casting darkness and light unevenly throughout the tent.

Zuko has to squint, but then he sees her.

Katara is right in the middle of it all, eyes closed as she dances. She moves like none of the others, her hips swaying and body turning so smoothly that she easily stands out. Zuko had heard the boys say before that Water Tribe dance was based on ancient waterbending…watching Katara, Zuko can believe it. Her arms are bare except for silver bangles around her wrists, and her hair is down with more silver woven into it.

The women around her dance too, but none look as natural as she does. From where he stands, Zuko can suddenly see that she is barefoot and moving across the furs like an acrobat. In the Fire Nation, formal dance is rigidly coordinated…but the Water Tribe chief's daughter moves on instinct, her body twisting with the beat.

Zuko has _never_ seen dancing like this.

Fire Nation dancing is an art, based on rigorous training and memorization of steps.

This Water Tribe dancing looks like pure emotion.

"Lee? Lee!"

Zuko snaps his eyes back, turning and meeting Sokka's gaze.

Thankfully, the Water Tribe boys laugh.

"Nanak just asked you what the Fire Nation girls are like." Sokka smirks, crossing his arms against his chest.

The boy with braids—Nanak—nods at Zuko, "What do they look like?"

"Uh…" Zuko reaches up, scratching at his long hair. For some reason, he is having a difficult time picturing any Fire Nation women in his head…all his drunken brain can conjure is an image of a blue eyed girl dancing to a drum beat…

"They…they really don't look anything like your girls…" Zuko says suddenly, giving a weak shrug.

"Oh, so you _have_ been looking at our girls!" Nanak laughs, using his elbow to nudge Zuko in his ribs.

"No!" Zuko can feel his face turning red, "I just…your girls look _nothing_ like the girls I'm used to."

"Oh come on then!" Sokka urges, "Tell us about them!"

The rest of the boys nod in agreement.

Zuko doesn't like big groups of people he doesn't know, but he speaks before he can stop himself.

"They're…tall. A lot taller than the girls I've seen here." Zuko says slowly, "And skinnier too—"

"Hey!" Sokka interjects, "Are you saying our girls are big?"

"No!" Zuko says quickly, shifting his gaze to look out at the dancers, "Your girls are just…curvier."

The boys then erupt with laughter. Nanak is laughing so hard that he almost falls over.

"Looks like Lee _really_ likes our girls!" The Water Tribe boy with the scar exclaims loudly.

"Look alive Lee!" Nanak calls out with a whistle, "One of those curvy Water Tribe girls is coming at you!"

"Hey!" Sokka reaches out, punching Nanak in his shoulder, "That's my sister!"

Zuko feels his breath catch in his throat, and he turns around as fast as he can. Nanak had spoken the truth; Katara was walking towards them—towards _Zuko_.

As she approaches, Zuko can see that her face is painted too. Thick, black coloring is painted around her eyes. The dark paint is also drawn on her neck, where it comes up to her jaw line in the pattern of sharp teeth.

She wears the snarl of a wolf too, Zuko realizes.

"Are you…_drinking_?" Katara narrows her eyes , looking up at Zuko.

He swallows drily, turning to look at the others.

Sokka and the rest of the Water Tribe boys have all taken a few steps back. Nanak and Sokka are both smirking at him, while the others are looking the other way, pretending that they are not paying attention.

Traitors.

"Um…we were just drinking a little…" Zuko stumbles over his words.

"Yeah, _right_." Katara rolls her eyes and she takes a step closer.

She is close to Zuko now, and he can't help but think she looks a lot smaller when she's standing only a few inches from him. Her blue eyes are looking up at him past painted lashes and—maybe it's the alcohol, yeah, it has to be the alcohol—he thinks the smile she's giving him is…flirtatious.

Her next words surprise him.

"Can I have some too?"

Zuko knows what her older brother would want him to say to that…but her older brother left him to fend for himself.

Time for a little payback.

"Sure." Zuko holds out his glass to Katara—a glass which is still half full with vodka.

He can see Sokka's shocked expression as Katara smiles and takes the glass from him.

She brings the glass up, and before Sokka can stop her, Katara tips the glass against her lips and…_downs the entire fucking thing_.

Damn.

"Uh…shouldn't you, you know, maybe take that a little slower?" Zuko asks as he takes his glass (now empty) back from her.

"Lee," Katara laughs, poking a finger against his chest, "You are in no position to tell me how to drink! You and my brother are barely standing!"

Zuko finds that he is smiling back at her, and for a moment he drunkenly thinks that he wants to reach out and touch her—

"Hey!" Nanak yells out from behind them, "We still got two more bottles!

* * *

After Katara has one drink, she eagerly tells the rest of the boys the story of how they speared the leopard sturgeon. Everyone laughs when she describes the fish smacking Zuko's face with its tail.

After Katara has two drinks, Zuko works up the courage to ask about her dancing. She seems surprised that he noticed, and then she perks up and asks Zuko if he would like to dance with her. The boys egg him on, but Zuko flushes and says no. Katara is kind enough not to push it.

After Katara has three drinks, she and Sokka lean against Zuko, both of them laughing hard. They are making fun of him, but Zuko is so drunk he can't really understand what they are saying. All three of them are wobbling on their feet, and Zuko thinks the only reason they are able to stand is because they are pushed up against each other.

After Katara has four drinks, people begin to leave. Katara sighs and says she is tired…Zuko gets the message. He turns to leave, but she stops him. Katara tells him that nobody sleeps alone during the summer celebration, because so many people get drunk and freeze to death. Sokka nods in agreement, and they tell Zuko to come with them.

He asks if Hakoda will mind.

Katara huffs and replies that Hakoda won't be coming home tonight. Sokka grins knowingly at Zuko, and he suddenly understands why he hasn't seen the chief in hours.

The siblings lead Zuko back to their tent. It is cold out, the wind blowing hard enough to make Zuko shiver even though the alcohol has made his limbs numb. The snow is thin though, and they barely leave footprints as they make the trek.

When they get to the tent, there are furs spread out in the main room. Sokka drops down, shutting his eyes before he even hits the floor, not even bothering to take off his shoes.

Katara kneels down, looking up at Zuko. She says something about making himself comfortable, tugging off her boots as she speaks.

Zuko thinks that he should not sleep next to the chief's daughter, but he is so tired that he can't think of any alternative. He collapses down next to her, curling onto his side.

Katara pulls a thick fur blanket over them, and Zuko falls asleep, his head spinning.

He dreams of a woman with blue skin and black hair.

* * *

When he wakes up, Katara is not there. Neither is Sokka.

Zuko sits up, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. His stomach is rolling, and he grimaces as he leans forward, trying to calm it.

It takes some time, but eventually he is able to stand on his feet. Staggering forward, he walks out of the tent, raising a hand to block the glare of the sun.

The first thing that he notices is that there are a group of warriors standing before him.

The second thing he notices is that Iroh and Hakoda are there as well.

They are staring at him…and it is not friendly.

"What's wrong?" Zuko asks quietly, turning to his uncle.

Iroh does not say anything. He raises his hand, pointing toward the north. Zuko turns, squinting as he looks out on the horizon.

Smoke.

He does not say anything. He doesn't have to. Everyone knows what the smoke means.

Fire Nation.

Zuko thinks for a moment, his mind racing. He tries, but he cannot convince himself of any possibility that the ship is not Zhao's.

The look on Hakoda's face makes it clear that Iroh has already told him the ship will not be friendly.

"Lee," Iroh's voice is deadly serious, "Katara is out on the tundra…out on the shore."

* * *

**Well the next chapter is when all the crazy stuff starts to happen! Please review!**


	6. The Firebender

Katara raises both hands, drawing up a wave as big as her own body. She moves, swinging her arms, and then the wave splits into a thousand icicles, exploding in all directions. Turning, she spins in a circle, drawing the sparkling ice shards into a tornado around her body. Cutting an open palm through the air, she then sends the ice shooting across the water before her.

The shards strike an ice berg so hard that they shear it in half. A huge chunk of ice splits off from the berg, lazily sliding into the dark waters.

Katara goes still then, panting, her breath making white clouds in the cold air.

She is standing only a few feet from the waterline, facing towards the north.

The wind is whipping hard, causing the ocean to break over and over, whitecaps dotting the blue water. The sky above is a deep gray, with low lying clouds that make the air thick. Despite all this, it is not as cold as normal, so Katara has cast off her parka and stands only in her summer clothing. Watching as the chunk of ice finally disappears beneath the waves, she bends over, placing her hands on her knees.

She is still panting, and her head—right behind her left eye—is throbbing. Like someone is knocking a hammer against her skull.

Katara guesses that maybe she had a little too much to drink last night.

Normally she can waterbend all day without falter, but this morning she is tired after only an hour of two. Her arms feel heavy, and the pounding in her head makes her want to shut her eyes and lay down. Still, she needs the practice, and that was why she eventually forced herself to crawl out of her furs and head out to the shore.

Sokka and Lee had still been asleep, which was good. She did not want to be there when they woke up…they were _far_ drunker than she had been. She could guess that there would be a lot of groaning and vomiting in their near future. Lee and Sokka could barely walk back to the tent last night, and Lee had even fallen at one point. When the Fire Nation boy had tripped, he had pulled Katara down with him. She had landed face first in the snow, and Sokka had roared with laughter at the both of them.

It was a good night, Katara decides.

Standing back up, Katara peers out at the water. She can't help but feel like there's something off, like there's a small detail that she's missing…

And then, she is knocked off her feet.

A person crashes into her from behind, and Katara can't help but cry out in surprise as she rolls down, landing on her back. Kicking out, she struggles as she feels fingers gripping her wrists.

"Hey! Calm down! It's just me!"

Wrenching her arms away from the hands that are holding her down, she blinks rapidly, looking up in confusion.

It's Lee.

He is sprawled on top of her, his own much larger body covering her smaller frame. Lee is looking down at her like she's mad, his golden eyes wide and his black hair falling from his shoulders and into his face. Katara reaches up, placing her palms against his chest, and then she pushes hard—shoving him off of her. Lee lands with a thud in the snow, rolling onto his side.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Katara growls, tripping in the snow as she tries to stand.

"We have to get out of here!" Lee practically jumps up from the ground, "Come on! We have to go _now_!"

He is talking too fast, and Katara is so surprised by the whole situation that she freezes up, staring at the Fire Nation boy.

"Katara, we have to _go_." Frustration creeps into his voice, and he reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her wrist.

She yanks back on instinct, but Lee is stronger than she knew, and he manages to hold on.

"Let go of me!" She hisses, baring her teeth in a snarl as she tries to pull away, "Lee, what the hell is going on—"

There is a sharp sound, like a knife slicing the air.

And then Lee is thrown backward into the snow, an arrow buried in his shoulder.

* * *

Zuko lands on his back, pain exploding in his upper arm. Groaning, he turns his head to the side. He has to blink a few times, but eventually his blurred vision begins to take focus, and he sees the thin arrow protruding from his shoulder. Blood has already begun to dribble from the wound, and it is quickly staining his blue parka. The snow on his back is cold, and his teeth shake together—but whether it is from the pain or the cold, Zuko cannot say.

"Lee!" Katara yells out the false name, and then she darts forward, collapsing onto her knees next to him.

Her pale eyes are wide with shock as she looks down at Zuko. He tears his eyes away from hers after a moment, looking toward the east, where the arrow had come from.

Five men. All in the dark red and black of Fire Nation armor.

Shit.

They are in a wedge formation, and the forward man has his bow drawn.

_Shit_.

The soldiers are running at full speed, their metal boots crunching into the snow.

"Katara!" Zuko turns back, looking up at the girl, "We have to get out of here, now!"

"You have an arrow in your arm!" She exclaims, reaching up and gingerly touching his bicep, not far from the wound.

"Yes, I realize that!" Zuko snaps, clenching his hands into fists as a spasm of pain racks his shoulder, "You need to pull it out!"

"What?" Katara glares at him, "I can't, it'll only rip at your muscle—"

"We don't have time for this!" Zuko snarls, shifting uncomfortably in the snow, "Those soldiers are going to be here any second! Just pull the arrow out!"

Katara turns, biting her bottom lip as she sees the Fire Nation soldiers drawing closer. They are shouting out commands now, but the wind howls against their voices and Zuko cannot decipher what they are saying.

She turns back to him, nodding grimly. Without warning, Katara reaches out and grabs the blunt end of the arrow. Zuko braces himself, gritting his teeth. When she yanks on the arrow, it violently pulls at his flesh, and Zuko somehow manages to _not_ scream in pain. For a minute, white lights dot his vision, but then he feels Katara reaching under his arms, pulling him to his feet. He slips in the snow, losing his footing, but Katara presses herself against his side, barely able to support him.

Blood trickles from his wound, the red liquid sliding all the way down his arm until his fingers are sticky.

Katara wraps an arm around his waist.

"Lee, let's go!" The girl looks up at Zuko as she begins to pull him along.

Grunting in response, Zuko forces himself to start running. Katara jogs next to him, her arm still around his middle. He stumbles every few seconds, but every time she is able to hold him up so that he does not fall. The soldiers are gaining on them, their feet thundering into the snow. The lead man shoots another arrow, but it sails harmlessly over their heads.

Zuko and Katara run, but they are not fast enough.

The lead soldier circles around to their front, dropping his bow and pulling out a sword. Zuko and Katara come to a screeching halt, their feet digging into the ground.

Zuko's eyes dart back and forth as he desperately searches for an escape.

"This way!" Zuko turns to their left, and Katara follows.

They take ten steps, and then there is another soldier, swinging his sword in front of them.

Zuko throws out his hand, fingers intertwining with Katara's. He pulls her along, so hard that she falls to her knees. She is up fast though, running next to Zuko, still clutching onto his hand. They are panting hard, red in the face as they race backwards, trying to escape the soldiers.

It is no use.

Zuko stops, and Katara collides into him, nearly knocking them both over.

The five Fire Nation men stand around them, each with a gleaming sword drawn.

They are surrounded.

* * *

Zuko stands still.

The blood flows freely down his arm now, and the pain in his shoulder is like fire shooting down to his fingers.

The man directly to their front takes a step forward. He brings his sword down, the blade glittering in the light.

Zuko tightens his grip on Katara's hand, pulling her closer.

It is silent. The wind whistles around them, whipping Zuko's hair and cutting into his skin. It does not bother him though. He remains perfectly still, his eyes narrowed on the man in front of them.

The man has his knees bent into a ready stance, the white face of his Fire Nation armor a blank mask.

"Girl," The man's voice is a slow rumble as his mask turns toward Katara, "Leave the Prince to us and you may go free."

Katara snaps her eyes up to Zuko's. Her hand is trembling in his grasp, but when she turns back to the soldier, her lips are set in a firm line.

She shakes her head.

And then…everything happens all at once.

The man rushes forward, and then all of the soldiers are shouting as they begin to charge. Zuko has only a moment to make his decision, and then he lets go of Katara's hand, pushing her to the side. She cries out, tumbling to her knees.

The lead man reaches Zuko first. The Fire Prince crouches into a fighting stance, and when the soldier reaches him, he expertly dodges a swing of his sword. Bringing his arm back, Zuko snaps his elbow upward. He hits the man directly under the ribs, where he knows there is a weakness in the armor. The man yelps in pain as he is launched backwards, a sickening crack sounding out. Zuko thinks that he probably broke a few of the man's ribs, but he does not have the time to appreciate this. Before he can react, there are two more soldiers upon him.

One swings his sword, causing Zuko to duck quickly. The man misses, and Zuko flips backward, bringing his heels up and crashing them under the man's chin. This soldier's head snaps back too far, and he is dead before he hits the snow.

Then…a scream. A _girl's_ scream.

Zuko turns, and then he sees her.

A solider has an arm wrapped around Katara's neck, his sword held up to her throat. The metal is already digging into her skin, sprouting a thin, red line of blood. Zuko leaps up to help her, but he knows he is too far away. He will not get there in time.

The man raises his blade, but Katara is faster. She jumps in the air then crumples to the ground, her own weight pulling her out of the man's grasp. Crouching underneath him, Katara draws her fist backward and lunges forward—punching him right in his thigh. The man howls, falling to the ground and clutching his leg. Katara jumps up, and then she runs at the man. He brings his hands up to defend himself, but it does him no good.

Katara brings her knee up, jamming it into his face so hard that his helmet goes flying.

He screams like an animal, bright red blood spurting from his nose. The snow under him quickly turns from white to crimson, and then the man is thrashing wildly. As the soldier pulls his hands away from his face, Zuko can see that the bridge of his nose is nearly sideways, it's so terribly broken.

Katara—and Zuko does not understand why—goes completely still.

The man with the broken nose kicks his leg out, catching Katara at her ankles. She falls to the ground, landing on her side. The man climbs to his feet, blood pouring down his front, coating his uniform.

"You_ bitch!_" The man roars, reaching into his belt and pulling out a knife.

He rushes her, holding the knife high above his head.

Zuko acts without thinking. He raises his fist and thrusts it forward, blasting flame towards the soldier.

* * *

The soldier screams helplessly as the clothing under his armor catches fire. He drops the knife, spinning in circles before finally collapsing to the ground. He writhes in the snow, desperately trying to put out the flames. But Zuko's firebending was too strong…his skin is blackened within minutes. He goes still not long after falling to the ground, smoke rising from his still burning body.

Zuko looks up, his yellow eyes catching Katara's gaze.

She is frozen in place, sitting on the ground and looking up at him.

Zuko thinks that maybe he should say something. He opens his mouth—

A foot comes out of nowhere, catching him in his gut. Doubling over, Zuko falls to his knees. The kick was hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and he kneels in the snow, heaving as he tries to catch his breath. The two remaining soldiers stand in front of him, both swinging their swords. Jumping back to his feet, Zuko rolls to the side, just as the man swipes his blade where Zuko's head had been. Spinning, Zuko jumps in the air, kicking out his leg. He catches the nearest man in the jaw, his heel connecting so hard that the man is thrown off his feet. As he lands, Zuko quickly thrusts out his fist, shooting another burst of flame. He is too slow though, and the man easily deflects the fire with his sword.

The second man rushes forward before Zuko has time to recover. The Fire Prince hastily kicks out an arc of fire, but the soldier leaps out of the way. Zuko draws his fist back again, sucking in a deep breath as he prepares to whip out another blaze, but the man is too fast. The soldier swings his sword forward, forcing Zuko to fall to the ground to avoid being hit. The firebender is acrobatic, however, and he flips backward, landing perfectly on his feet, spreading both hands wide as flame dances between his palms…

And then there is a sword flashing through the air, and Zuko collapses to the ground, roaring in pain.

The soldier he had kicked had finally recovered.

His sword had sliced Zuko in the back, cutting a neat vermillion line through the blue fabric.

The wound is shallow, but crosses from Zuko's shoulder all the way to his opposite hip. Pain spirals through his muscles, and the prince cries out as his body convulses. The two soldiers approach, weapons drawn, and Zuko struggles to climb to his hands and knees. His back hurts so bad that he can barely balance as he leans back, kneeling in the snow. Raising his hand, he curls it into a fist, before striking out. The flame he produces is weak and wild, and the two men evade it easily.

Blinking, Zuko clenches his teeth as the soldiers approach. They have the swords drawn high, and they are too close.

He will not be able to escape.

Grinding his teeth together, Zuko breathes out steam, forcing himself to make eye contact with the two men who would kill him.

He kneels before them, perfectly still, glaring up at both the soldiers with pure defiance.

He will fight to the end, Zuko decides as the two men run towards him.

The men are sprinting now…and then…and then…

The front man stumbles. His partner staggers too, and then they both slip and crash to the ground. The two soldiers try to clamor back to their feet, but they fall again and again. They are slipping on the ground, unable to get any traction.

The snow beneath their feet has turned to ice.

The men are howling in frustration now, crawling like animals on the ice. Their heavy metal armor makes it nearly impossible for them to stand, but after several attempts they finally make it back to their feet, grabbing onto each other for stability. The soldiers turn, their white masks looking beyond Zuko. The prince turns, grimacing as the torn muscles in his back clench…and then he sees her.

Katara is standing, her feet wide apart, palm stretched out.

Her icy eyes are narrowed with determination. She turns then, whirling her body in a circle, raising both arms. The movement is so fluid, so graceful, and Zuko has seen it before—_she is dancing_.

What happens next is so impossible that time seems to slow down as Zuko watches.

As she spins, she raises a column of ice from the snow. Swiping her palm over the top of it, she shoots forward a solid disc. The ice moves through the air so quickly, so silently, that neither soldier reacts in time.

The ice disc slices cleanly through the lead soldier's neck. His severed head falls to the ground, body following not long after.

His partner drops his sword in shock, but a second ice disc flies through the air, and it catches him in his stomach. The man falls to the ground, his body cut into two clean pieces.

Zuko turns and looks at the Water Tribe girl.

It…it's impossible…

She drops her arms slowly, curling her fingers into fists, eyes stuck on the cleaved bodies that are now pouring blood onto the snow.

She looks like she is in shock. Zuko wonders if she has ever killed a person before.

Grunting, Zuko places his hands on his thighs and strains as he pushes himself to his feet. It takes a lot of effort, but after a few moments he is able to stand up straight. His head swims though, and he staggers, blackness clouding the edges of his vision. Reaching up, he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face.

Then the prince turns, and faces the waterbender.

* * *

They stand, watching each other.

Zuko does not know how much time passes, but it is long enough that he is struck by how truly opposite they really are.

She stands in summer clothing, the blue cloth thin on her small figure. Her skin is dark, so much darker than any other he has seen. He is her contrast, with pale skin and straight black hair. His golden eyes, he now knows, are as strange to her as her blue eyes are to him. They stand in the snow, both straight-backed, both silent.

He takes a step forward.

She immediately steps back, her body tensing.

They fall silent again. Zuko wants to grab her and run, but he is afraid that if he moves she will send ice straight through his heart.

"_Who are you?!_" Katara growls, her voice echoing in the silence of the tundra.

Bodies surround them, but now it seems Katara has eyes for him only.

He bites his lip, but he does not answer her.

"I said, _who are you?!_" Katara snaps.

The ice walls around them crack.

Zuko does not answer.

"You're not Lee, are you?" Katara spits in anger.

The waters of the ocean to their north begin to froth. Waves crash into the shore, harder than before, the sea a deep blue that is almost black.

"My name…my name is Zuko." He forces himself to meet her eyes.

Her reaction is immediate. She takes another step back, turning her body to the side.

For the first time since he has met her, he sees fear in Katara's eyes.

"Zuko?" Her voice shakes, but only slightly, "_Prince_ Zuko? You're the Firelord's _son_?"

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. She knows the answer now.

"You…you lied to us!" Her voice is accusatory.

If Zuko didn't know any better, he would think that Katara was about to cry. But he knows that she is actually seething with rage.

"I had to—" He begins, trying to explain.

"Shut up! You…you're…" She struggles to find words, and then her eyes widen, "You're a firebender…"

"You're a waterbender." Zuko replies quietly.

They both fall silent.

"This…this is impossible." She says after a few moments, eyes narrowing, "There haven't been any benders for a hundred years. I thought…I thought I was the only one…"

"We don't have time for this." Zuko suddenly says, "We…the soldiers will be heading to the tribe, we have to get back there!

"What?" Katara turns, looking at the fallen men, "There are more of them?"

"There's a whole ship heading straight for the tribe." Zuko winces as more pain erupts from his back and shoulder, "These men were probably just a scouting group. We need to get back to your tribe, we have to stop them—"

"Why should I trust you?" She snaps, glaring back at him, "You've lied to us about everything! You're…you're the prince of the Fire Nation! These are your own soldiers!"

"These men follow a rogue commander." Zuko shakes his head, feeling anger rush through his veins just at the mere thought of Zhao, "He's the man who almost killed me!"

Katara does not respond. She purses her lips in a scowl, and he can tell that she is weighing her options.

"Isn't _this_ enough proof that I'm trying to help you?" Zuko says, waving his arm, gesturing to the dead soldiers.

They both fall silent again. Then Katara finally looks up, her eyes as hard as steel.

"Ok. I'll trust you…for now." She replies, "But…tell me something, Zuko."

He looks at her questioningly.

"Have you ever…do you know any other benders?" Her voice turns softer, "Besides me?"

He is silent at first.

"No." He finally answers, "You're the only other bender I've ever met."

"Oh." She tilts her head down, turning away from him.

She looks disappointed.

A gnawing feeling settles in Zuko's gut.

He does not like lying…and has never been good at it.

But somehow he thinks that now is not the time to tell her that Firelord Ozai is a firebender too.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, you guys are awesome! This was my first time writing action scenes in quite a while, so if you could let me know what you think of the fighting, I'd really appreciate it.**

**Also...as evidenced by this chapter, I am planning on taking what I consider a more realistic approach to the Avatar universe. What I mean by that is that, when people fight, they are fighting to kill each other. So there _will_ be violence and death (though, I won't be making it too graphic). **

**Please review!**


	7. The Commander

When they make it back to the tribe, the warriors are already assembled.

The pain in Zuko's back shoots through his body like lightning. Every step is agony, causing his muscles from his neck to his hips to lock. Katara is next to him, her arm wrapped gingerly around his waist. She is doing her best to support him, grunting with effort as they hobble through the snow. The friction of her arm on his wound is tortuous, but he suffers through it, forcing himself to jog next to her. By the time they approach the tribe's encampment, Zuko is barely able to walk. He staggers, concentrating only on putting one foot in front of the other. Katara tries her best to help, but she is so much smaller than him that she can barely support his weight.

"Come on!" Katara huffs, pressing her shoulder into his side, "Just…just a little further!"

He leans against her, and they move as quickly as possible. Zuko can't help but feel like they're trying to run through quicksand. The snow seems to fight them at every step…but Katara is determined, and she pulls Zuko along with ferocity.

When they are only a few hundred meters away, the warriors finally notice them. Two dark blue figures begin to run towards them, and it is then that Zuko finally allows himself to collapse. He falls to his knees, dragging Katara down to the snow.

The waterbender cries out in surprise, and she turns to face him, her face clouded with worry.

"We…we have to keep going!" She reaches down, grabbing onto his arm, "Come on! We need to get back! I can…I can heal you—"

He doesn't know what she means. By now there is black clouding the edges of his vision, and he barely recognizes the two warriors that sprint towards them.

Sokka. And…someone else. A boy his age that he does not recognize.

"Katara!" Sokka crouches down next to them, a spear gripped in one hand, "What the hell-? Are you hurt?"

"No, no I'm fine." Katara speaks quickly, "We were attacked! And Lee…"

She pauses, turning to look at Zuko as she realizes that she used his false name.

"Damn…" Sokka winces as he looks down at Zuko.

He reaches out, and then the other boy goes to Zuko's other side. They both throw each of Zuko's arms over their shoulders, and then they stand, forcing him to his feet.

A part of Zuko wants to scream at them, warn them that he is the cause of all this… He thinks that he should tell them to leave him behind, but before he can get the words out, Katara darts forward, running towards the rest of the warriors. Sokka and the other boy follow behind, and Zuko can barely move his feet fast enough to keep up as they pull him along. His chest begins to heave, each breath causing pain to splinter along his back.

The tribe's warriors stand in a crescent shaped formation, facing out towards the north. As they get closer, Zuko can see a line of red approaching. The Fire Nation soldiers are not far.

"Katara!"

Hakoda stands in full battle gear, a club strapped to his waist, a spear in hand. He runs toward them, coming to a halt in front of his daughter.

"Katara? Lee?" Hakoda's eyes widen as he sees his son dragging the Fire Nation boy, "What happened?"

"We were attacked." Katara is panting from all the running, "Some soldiers ambushed us by the shore! We got away but…but Lee's hurt."

Sokka and the other boy gently release their hold on Zuko's arms, and he slides to his knees, grimacing in pain as he tries to catch his breath.

"Lee!"

Iroh rushes forward, dropping to his own knees next to his nephew. To Zuko's surprise, his uncle, too, wears the blue armor of the Water Tribe warriors. He places his hands on Zuko's shoulders, leaning in to look his nephew in the eye.

"You're hurt." Iroh mutters, "The soldiers attacked you?"

Zuko nods, "Yes. They're…they're Zhao's men."

Iroh's amber eyes fall, his lips setting into a firm line.

"Who is Zhao?" Hakoda's voice is hard.

"Commander Zhao." Zuko spits the name with venom, turning and looking up at the chief, "The man who…attacked us."

Hakoda is silent for a few moments. His is an intelligent man, however, and soon his pale eyes narrow, and his entire body stiffens as realization sets in.

"You…" He looks between Iroh and Zuko, "You are…part of the military? The Fire Nation military?"

Zuko's heart begins to hammer in his chest. The stare that Hakoda gives him is so sharp that it almost cuts.

The tribe's warriors are all staring now, sensing a sudden change in their leader. Sokka, too, looks to his father in confusion. Only Katara looks away, her eyes falling to stare at the ground. Zuko is surprised that she does not speak up…he expected condemnation from her, but she seems reluctant.

"Who are you?" Hakoda asks finally, his voice remarkably calm.

"Hakoda!"

The chief turns at the sound of his name.

The line of Fire Nation soldiers is close now. There are maybe fifty men, lined up in a tight formation, approaching directly from the north. The armor that they wear casts a crimson slash across the snow, and the blank white faces that stare out from their helmets are all focused straight ahead. They march in time, metal slushing through snow, and as they draw closer they come to a halt.

Blue warriors face red, and it is eerily quiet.

And then…the line of Fire Nation soldiers parts, and their Commander steps forward.

* * *

Zuko stiffens as soon as he sees him, his hands clenching into fists.

Zhao does not wear a helmet, but he does wear the black armor that is reserved for the royal family and only the highest of nobility.

It is an _insult_.

He strides forward, hands clasped behind his back, a dark cape flowing behind him as a signature of his rank. His brown eyes are narrowed, but his mouth is curved into a confident smirk. He walks forward at a leisurely pace, boots crunching against the ground.

He comes to a halt maybe fifty paces in front of the line of blue warriors.

Silent for a few moments, Zhao scans the people standing before him.

When his eyes find Zuko, they linger, and his smirk widens.

Zuko gets the feeling that the commander is smirking because the Prince is on his knees, bleeding and dressed in the furs that the savages wear.

"I am looking for the chieftain of this…tribe." Zhao's voice cuts through the silence.

Hakoda steps forward, his gaze cool steel as he glares at the Commander. He still grips a spear in one hand.

"I am Commander Zhao." The Fire Nation noble says, tipping his head in a slow nod, "May I ask your name?"

"I am Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe." Hakoda's voice is curt, but steady. He does not offer any more information.

"I am…honored to meet you, Chief Hakoda." Zhao's voice is dripping with calm courtesy, "First, please, let me assure you that I mean no disrespect by coming unannounced to your lands."

The Commander pauses, but Hakoda says nothing.

"I also wish to assure you that this is no military act by the Fire Nation." Zhao dips his head in what appears to be a humble gesture, "I…do not want you to get the wrong impression about my men's presence."

"It is a relief to know that you are not here for war." Hakoda says slowly, "But tell me then, Commander, why _are_ you here? The Fire Nation has shown little interest in my people…"

Zhao smiles, "I'm here for the Prince, of course."

The reaction is immediate. A collective gasp rises up from the Water Tribe warriors, and many of the younger ones turn, looking in horror at the Fire Nation boy that they though so little of. Hakoda gives no physical proof of his own thoughts, remaining perfectly still. His face, even, remains as stone.

"You also have the great General Iroh," Zhao continues, "But the Prince is my objective, and I _cannot_ leave without him."

Silence follows.

Zhao does not elaborate. He does not need to.

Hakoda turns, and then the chief is staring at Zuko. The Prince does not want to, but he forces himself to meet the chief's gaze. To his surprise, Hakoda's eyes are soft.

And then…Zuko knows.

He knows that Hakoda will not give him up.

Zuko suddenly remembers his uncle's words.

"_Hakoda is a kind man. I think, if you give him a chance, you may grow to like him."_

* * *

"Zhao!" Zuko staggers to his feet, teeth bared in a snarl as he glares at the Commander.

The man turns, still smirking as he meets Zuko's furious gaze.

All eyes are suddenly on the Prince.

"If I…if I come with you willingly," Zuko forces the words out, looking at no one but Zhao, "You, you will leave the tribe in peace?"

Everyone stares, but it is Katara's gaze that Zuko notices. She looks at him as if he has sprouted another head, her eyes narrowed in…anger?

Zhao smiles, reaching up to stoke his beard, "You have my word."

Zuko does not say anything, but he nods.

As he stands, forcing his back to straighten and holding his chin high, he realizes that his uncle makes no move to stop him.

This is how he knows that he is doing the right thing.

Zhao's smile turns more malicious with each step that Zuko takes. The Prince clenches his hands to stop his fingers from trembling as he walks forward. The pain is incredible, but Zuko refuses to show any weakness to the Commander. He moves stiffly, and breaks apart from the line of Water Tribe warriors, heading directly towards the man that betrayed him.

Zuko resists the urge to turn and look back. He does not think he could stand to see the look on Iroh's face.

When he is about halfway, Zuko thinks that he hears the waterbender say something. She sounds angry, but then her voice becomes muffled, as if someone has restrained her.

He stops in front of Zhao.

Spirits, what Zuko would give to _burn_ that smirk right off the Commander's face…

Zhao turns, glancing over his shoulder.

He intends for Zuko to _follow_ him.

By now the Prince is plagued with murderous thoughts.

Zhao just wants to humiliate him.

Nonetheless, Zuko swallows his prides and forces himself to fall in line behind Zhao. Still, he refuses to turn and face the looks of the people who have housed him for the past month. He does not want to see their pitying faces.

When they come to the Fire Nation soldiers, Zhao stops and turns.

The look he gives Zuko over his shoulders is…mocking.

Then Zhao looks away, and he turns to the soldiers that stand in front of them.

The Commander smiles, and hisses quietly: _"Kill them."_

* * *

Katara is in the middle of deciding what she's going to do—_how_ she's going to rescue the prince—when she sees a burst of flame. The orange and yellow light is so bright that she has to throw up her arm and cover her eyes.

Zuko and Zhao are circling each other.

Zhao holds a sword, and he swings it so close to Zuko's face that Katara's breath catches in her throat. Just when she thinks the prince's nose is about to be sliced off, he ducks to the side, and the fireball that he shoots barely misses Zhao's body.

She _was_ thinking of following them, infiltrating the Fire Nation ship, and breaking the Prince free…

When the red soldiers rush forward, shouting cries of battle, Katara realizes that it will not come to that.

When three, no, _four_ more soldiers rush Zuko, knocking him to the ground, Katara runs forward without thinking.

When she sees the blood on the snow, the prince's blood, she reaches out.

She grabs at the ice that surrounds them, and as soon as she feels it at her fingertips, she dives, surging toward the enemy.

Katara hits the soldiers before her own people have any time to react.

* * *

Zuko dreams.

He sees a woman with blue skin and black eyes, and she is _dancing_.

* * *

When Zuko opens his eyes, he has to blink a few times. The small fire burning in the center of the tent is dim, and it takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust. His brain feels slow and thick, and it feels like an eternity before he is able to comprehend the scene around him. A fur blanket is wrapped around his body, but he still sweating. In fact, he feels uncomfortably hot, like his skin is melting into the padding beneath his body. But he's only wearing a thin pair of pants.

Then he realizes that he is lying in the healing tent.

And last, he realizes that the waterbender is kneeling next to him.

Zuko turns his head to the side, trying not to grimace in pain. Katara is beside his furs, and though she is looking at him, he can barely make out her face through the shadows. Shadows? But it had been morning when…when…

Zhao.

"What…what happened?" His voice is raspy.

She leans forward, so that he can see the blue of her eyes, "You passed out."

"And…Zhao?" Zuko asks, his voice curling into a growl.

"He's gone." Katara looks away from him, her eyes falling to her hands that are pooled in her lap, "I fought him off."

He stares at her.

"I didn't—I didn't do it _alone_." Her eyes dart back up to him, "Your uncle helped, and my dad and Sokka…" She trails off and it becomes quiet.

"Where is everyone?" He speaks finally, after the silence becomes stifling.

"With dad." Her voice turn sharp, "Sokka, dad, your uncle…they're all talking about…about _everything_."

"Oh." Zuko murmurs, because he doesn't know what else to say.

It grows quiet again, and Zuko fidgets because he does _not_ like the uncomfortable silence.

"You're going to have to leave, you know." She says, her words turning accusatory.

He had been expecting this because, really, what other option was there? But still, he cannot help but bristle when she says it out loud.

"I _know_." Zuko snaps, turning away from her, which is difficult because the wound in his back makes every movement pure agony.

She purses her lips, and for a moment Zuko thinks the waterbender is going to snarl back at him. To his surprise, however, her face softens.

"Sit up." She commands.

He narrows his eyes, but manages to bite back his refusal. He does not have the energy to argue with the girl right now…even if she is ordering him around.

Grunting, Zuko places his palms on the furs and pushes up. The pain is incredible, but somehow the prince manages to sit up and lean forward. He clenches his hands into fists and bows his head, hair falling into his face as he tries not to cry out. Really, his hair has gotten quite long. It is long enough now that it brushes his shoulders. Had he been in the Fire Nation, he probably would've cut it long ago.

The girl turns, and Zuko sees that she has a small basin of water beside her. She dips her hands into the water, and then they glow with a bright blue light. He can only stare in wonder and disbelief as she raises her hands from the basin, pulling the water along with her.

When she crawls behind him, he recoils.

"What're you doing?" He asks, glad that his voice does not stumble.

"I'm going to heal you." She replies simply, as if this is _normal_, "Hold still."

Part of Zuko wants to jump away from her witchy water, but then he remembers his broken limbs, his burns, and a knife in his gut.

Suddenly, everything seems to make a lot more sense.

He turns back, facing forward, forcing himself to remain still.

When she touches him, it is like being dipped in ice. She starts at his shoulder, moving downward across the diagonal cut. The water flows into the wound and it is both soothing and traumatic at the same time. He can feel the flesh being stitched back together, can feel the fibers of his muscle weaving back into shape, can feel the water sinking into his body, so deep that it becomes…_personal_. He doesn't like it, in fact, he _hates_ it, even though the pain is slowly ebbing away. He wants to wrench away from the waterbender, because he does not like her water slipping inside him like this, and he does not like how it almost feels as if her ice is striking the fire in his breath. But he cannot move; he is frozen in place.

"I want to go home anyway." He murmurs past clenched teeth.

By this point, he is desperate to distract himself from the water.

Katara pauses, only for a split second, and then she continues, moving her water slowly along his wound.

"We don't have any watercraft large enough to take you all the way to the Fire Nation." She says softly, "At least, none that aren't war ships…"

"Then where am I supposed to go?" Zuko asks, suppressing a shudder as her water reaches the center of his back.

"I…" Katara continues her healing, but she seems to struggle for words, "I guess you'll have to go to the Southern Air Temple."

"The Southern Air Temple?" Zuko cannot hide the surprise in his voice.

"They're the only civilization you'd be able to reach safely." Katara says, "The monks used to visit us every winter, bringing food and supplies for us. They stopped coming a few years ago, but I _know_ they would help you get back to the Fire Nation."

Zuko stiffens under her touch. Thankfully, the waterbender doesn't seem to notice.

"I don't think the Air Temple would want to help me." He grumbles.

"What?" He can hear the confusion in her voice, "Of course they would help you."

Zuko doesn't say anything. He reminds himself that she doesn't know any better.

They are silent once again. It bothers Zuko that this is becoming normal for them.

"I want to come with you." Katara says suddenly, her voice strained.

Zuko is so surprised that he is actually able to turn as she works, his yellow eyes peering over his shoulder at the girl.

"_What?"_ His voice is incredulous.

"Listen, I just…" She pauses, still warping his body with her water, "You're a firebender. I'm a waterbender. There haven't been any benders for over a hundred years…and all of a sudden there's _me_. And then there's _you_."

"Where are you going with this?" Zuko huffs impatiently.

"I just…I feel like there's something big going on here." Her voice drops low, "Something _bigger_ than just me and you. I feel like there's a reason I can bend, and you can bend, and you just _happened_ to wash up in the shore at my tribe."

He doesn't say anything, but her words hit home. Zuko turns away from her, pressing his lips tightly together as he begins to consider what she is saying.

Then he remembers the dreams, the woman, and his blood runs cold.

"I mean, I'm a waterbender, and you're a firebender." Katara continues, unaware of the sudden chill that has crept over Zuko, "Maybe…maybe we can find an airbender and an earthbender too. Maybe the monks will be able to tell us why we can bend. And if anyone would know about an airbender, it would be them!"

Her words have grown excited. Zuko gets the feeling that this is something she has been thinking about for quite some time.

"Bending was supposed to be part of the spirit, right?" She says eagerly, "The Air Nomads are the most spiritual people alive. If anyone could help us figure out why we can bend, it's them."

_Us_. For some reason, that word sticks out to Zuko.

"But I need to go home." Zuko says, more to himself than anything, "I need to see that Zhao is tried for treason. My father…he probably thinks I'm dead."

She goes quiet for a moment, and then she speaks, "Don't you want to find out why we can do this? I mean, why us? Nobody has been able to bend for a century…and from what I've seen, there _still_ isn't anyone else who can bend except us. Why…why all of a sudden can we bend? Out of all the people in the world, why _us_?"

Her words cut into Zuko like steel. He has wondered these things for his entire life. But the Air Nomads…they wouldn't want to help the Crown Prince. Not after…not after everything that has been done to them.

"I just want to go home." Zuko replies.

He can almost feel her disappointment.

"Ok…ok." Katara sighs, "But I still want to go with you. I want to see the monks, I want to find out what's…going on with me. Why I can do this."

_I want to find out what's wrong with me_, are the words that Katara does not say, but Zuko hears anyway.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't know why, but he feels like he should refuse her. But how can he?

And then the pain is completely gone. The icy touch of her water is gone, and all of a sudden Zuko feels, not water, but her fingertips against his back. Her touch is soft, and oddly cool on his hot skin.

"I'm done." She says, but her hands linger.

"Ok." Zuko says, and he knows that she understands he is answering more than one question.

He can almost feel her smile, even though he can't see her. And then she pulls her hands away quickly, as if she forgot she was touching him.

* * *

**Please review! I really want to know what you think of this chapter, as it was the hardest one for me to write so far.**


	8. The Voyage

The next morning, they prepare to leave.

Zuko watches as Katara and her father argue. Hakoda's face is a storm, and his words are loud and caustic.

He turns away when Hakoda suddenly shouts and points toward him. He is very thankful that they are far enough that he cannot understand what they are saying. Somehow, Zuko guesses that he does not want to hear what Hakoda thinks about this whole situation.

Iroh says his goodbyes. Naturally, many of the tribesmen have become suddenly cold towards the general. A certain elder however, who happens to be the waterbender's grandmother, gives Iroh a _particularly_ warm farewell.

Zuko turns away as he sees this, suppressing the urge to retch.

To his surprise, Sokka stands before him, a leather sack thrown over his shoulder.

Zuko can't help but stare at him, his yellow eyes widening.

"What?" Sokka raises one eyebrow as he speaks, "You didn't think you were just going to sail off into the sunset with my sister, did you?"

Before he can stammer an answer, Sokka pushes past him, dragging his bag along toward the ship.

Zuko reaches up, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Not for the first time, he wonders just what the hell he has gotten himself into.

* * *

The ship is small and—in Zuko's opinion—just barely large enough to survive the black waters of the open ocean. It has a single sail of simple operation, and beneath in the hull is a space just large enough for two or three people to lie comfortably. Hakoda's soldiers take care to load the ship with food, consisting mostly of dried meats and chewy sea plants. Just the smell of the salty foods is enough to make Zuko crinkle his nose, and he inwardly groans at the thought of eating only seal jerky for the entire voyage.

Fortunately, Sokka tells him that—baring poor winds—they should make it to the Southern Air Temple in four, maybe five days.

The Prince knows he should be relieved at this, but all he can feel is apprehension. He chews on his bottom lip when he thinks of coming face to face with the monks…

He is not used to feeling so uncertain. He is a _prince_, he should not be so afraid. He _hates_ feeling like this.

Zuko thinks that there is no way the meeting could possibly go well. And Iroh…his uncle is _excited_. As they wait for Sokka and Katara to say goodbye to Hakoda and Kanna, the general prattles on and on about how lucky they are to get the chance to meet the spiritual Air Nomads. Iroh talks about chakras, and then the spirit world. Zuko finds that if he nods every once in a while, his uncle will keep talking, oblivious to the fact that his nephew gets sick to his stomach when he thinks about the monks.

After several minutes, Katara and Sokka finally come to the ship. The Water Tribe boy is surprisingly solemn, his face colored gray, lips set in a straight line. Katara, on the other hand, looks downright miserable. Her blue eyes do not cry, but she stares at her feet when they approach, and she does not say anything when Iroh places a comforting hand on her shoulder. The general's gold eyes are soft, and when Katara looks up at him, she looks as if she might bolt. Before she gets a chance, however, Sokka wraps an arm around her shoulder and steers her toward the steps that lead into the hull.

Sokka mutters something about sleep, and they disappear down into the small cabin.

Zuko and Iroh are left to cast off by themselves. Not even Hakoda stays to see them off.

* * *

The first day, Zuko finds himself sitting with his uncle on the deck.

They both sit with their legs crossed, eyes closed, facing each other. Zuko has his fists pressed together, while Iroh has his hands in his lap, palms up.

"_Breathe." _Iroh says quietly. He does not open his eyes to see if Zuko follows the command.

Zuko takes a deep breath, inhaling through his nose as slowly as he can stand. He fills his chest as much as he possibly can, focusing on the expansion of his lungs

The sun burns brightly above them. Though the air is still cold, a drop of sweat slides down the side of Zuko's face. The strength of the heat makes his heart pound. He can feel the warmth settling in his gut, spreading out to his fingertips. His hands itch, but he somehow manages to keep them clenched in tight fists. Around them, calm waves press against the ship. The water is a brilliant, smoldering sapphire, as calm as a sea could possibly be.

It is stiflingly silent.

"Breathe." Iroh's voice cuts again.

Zuko's eyes are closed as he exhales, his breath warming as it spreads out from his chest and into his throat.

He tries to concentrate, he truly does, but the water distracts him. The bobbing of the small ship unsettles his head, making him dizzy as they move up and down. Zuko is no stranger to the sea—in fact, he is quite at home. The salt in the air, the clapping of the water, the utter void and open sky…it is all almost comforting, though he would never admit this.

Despite the comfort, Zuko is used to ships that are ten times the size of the small Water Tribe craft. It moves too much, and even the warmth of the sun cannot combat the ebb and flow of the tides that move them.

His head is _swimming_.

"Prince Zuko, you are not concentrating."

He opens his eyes at his uncle's words, scowling deeply. Iroh is of course smiling at him, completely at ease in the tiny, foreign ship.

"You are troubled." Iroh continues, staring across the ship at his nephew, "Your breath is hot, and you are as tense as stone. What's wrong, Zuko?"

Zuko is silent for a few moments, but then he turns, glancing over his shoulder. The cabin is silent, the water siblings nowhere to be found. Turning, he looks back at his uncle.

"They don't know." The prince says, pressing his lips tightly together.

"They don't know what?" Iroh asks.

"They don't _know_." Zuko growls, frustration creeping into his voice, "They don't know about the monks and the attack—"

"That is not surprising." Iroh interrupts, "Their tribe is isolated."

Zuko falls silent, yellow eyes turning out to the sea. He stares at the water, though he finds that the movement of the waves only makes his head feel worse.

"I just want to go home." He says, hating how small his voice sounds.

Iroh does not say anything at first, but Zuko can almost feel the pity burning from his gaze. He _hates_ that, even more than he hates how pathetic he sounds.

But most of all, he hates Zhao. Zuko has never thought himself a cruel person, but he thinks that when Ozai decides to execute the commander for his treason, Zuko will offer to light Zhao's pyre.

"Perhaps, when we get to the temple, you might decide to stay. For some time, at least." Iroh's words are careful, though his eyes are sharp, still focused on his nephew.

"Why would I want to stay?" Zuko looks at Iroh with surprise, unable to hide his disgust, "I need to go home and tell father about Zhao. He has to pay for what he did to us."

"The _waterbender_, Zuko." Iroh speaks slowly, ever patient, "For the first time in your life you have _found another bender_. Do you realize the enormity of this, Prince Zuko?"

"My father is a bender too." Zuko answers.

Iroh does not say anything, but Zuko can tell that his words bother the general.

"Did you know," His uncle finally says after a few moments, "That Katara was born the same year as you? You were born in the summer, and she was born in the winter."

Zuko takes the time to briefly wonder how his uncle knows this, but then he decides that it does not matter.

"Bending is, in its essence, a connection to the spirits." Iroh continues, "Do you think it was a coincidence that a firebender and waterbender were born in the same year, for the first time in a century?"

Zuko does not say anything.

"Fire and water are opposing elements." His uncle says, "Truthfully, it is not surprising that a waterbender and firebender were born in the same year. The spirits _must_ have balance."

"But there are four elements." Zuko narrows his eyes, "For them to be in balance…wouldn't there have to be an airbender and an earthbender, too?"

"I do not know, Prince Zuko." Iroh says, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays his true thoughts.

For some reason, this angers Zuko.

He does _not_ care about earthbenders, or airbenders, or even the waterbender. He does _not_ care why he can bend, or why she can bend, or why everyone else _can't_. He does _not_ care about the Air Nomads, or the spirits, or any of that other nonsense.

"I'll tell you what _I_ know, uncle." Zuko hisses venomously, "I _know_ Zhao betrayed us, and I _know_ that my father will burn him alive for being a traitor. I _know_ that I have to get home, that I have to tell father what happened. I _know_ that I am a prince, and my place is back at the Fire Nation."

Iroh turns away and sighs, "You know _nothing_, Prince Zuko."

They do not speak for the rest of the day.

* * *

On the second day, Katara is helping Iroh clear his lungs with her healing, and Zuko finds himself on the deck with Sokka.

The Water Tribe boy stands at the mast, gripping the ropes to the sail. He glares at Zuko with unconcealed contempt, standing as still as a statue.

After a few moments, Zuko cannot take it anymore.

"_What_?" He snarls, glaring back at Sokka.

"Nothing." Sokka says hastily.

They both fall silent then. Zuko is sitting with his legs crossed, and Sokka is now leaning against the mast, his arms folded against his chest. He still stares at Zuko, though now his expression turns from hatred to horror.

"I…I got drunk with the _prince of the Fire Nation_." Sokka says suddenly, his eyes widening, "Shit…we _shared a bed!_"

Zuko snaps, "Don't say it like _that_. I mean, your sister was there too—"

They both fall silent, and Zuko winces as Sokka's glare turns even colder.

"Yeah, you probably shouldn't say that again. _Ever_." Sokka says, bending over dramatically as he rubs his eyes.

The rest of the day, Zuko is quiet, and Sokka mopes around the deck, alternating between complaining about lying Fire Nation princes and his empty stomach.

* * *

On the third day, just as the sun is beginning to set, Katara emerges from the cabin. Zuko cringes as he sees her, mostly because he doesn't know what he is going to say to her. And he _knows_ she will not be content with silence like Sokka was.

When she emerges, she raises a hand, shielding her eyes as she turns toward the sun. It is a dark orange and yellow, with skies around it that are quickly turning from pink to violet. Zuko doesn't say anything, but he watches the waterbender curiously. She's just…standing there. Staring at the sun. He wonders if he should say something, but then decides that, really, why should he care? Though the sun is only halfway through its descent, Zuko can already feel his power waning. It isn't painful, or even particularly uncomfortable. More than anything the setting sun just makes him feel tired. Very tired.

After a few moments, she finally turns toward him.

"We're almost there." She says, giving him a small smile.

He doesn't know why she's smiling. It's unnerving.

"How do you know?" Zuko asks, eyes narrowing with skepticism.

"It's getting hot." Katara shrugs, turning away from him again.

He wants to laugh at that. True, it is not nearly the blistering cold that was the tundra, but the breeze here is still cooler than any in the Fire Nation. He can't help but wonder how the waterbender would fare in the tropical jungles of his home…she'd probably be just as miserable there as he had been in the South Pole.

Suddenly Katara turns back to look at him, and then she is bending over at the waist. Hands digging into white fur, she grips the hem of her parka.

Before he realizes what she's doing, the girl yanks the parka up, pulling the coat away from her body. For a brief moment, he panics, wondering if she's gone crazy, or if he should look away. When he sees the clothes she wore underneath, he suddenly feels very foolish. _Of course_ she was wearing normal clothes under the parka.

She looks a lot smaller without her coat. She's short, actually, the crown of her head just as high as his chin.

When his eyes meet hers, he flushes, because he realizes that he had been staring.

"Your uncle's doing well." Katara says, taking a few steps toward him, "I think, in a few days, he'll be back to normal."

"That's good." Zuko murmurs, because he really doesn't know what else to say.

"You know, you don't seem all that excited about going to the temple." She places her hands on her hips, giving him a shrewd look.

"Why should I be excited?" He asks, resisting the urge to roll his eyes because uncle says people don't like that.

"Oh I don't know," She _does_ roll her eyes, "Maybe because we might actually be able to find out something about our bending?"

_We_. He doesn't know where she picked that up.

"I told you, I just want to go home." He shakes his head.

"Well, you don't seem excited to go home _either_." Katara snaps.

That makes Zuko bristle. He opens his mouth to say something angry, but before he can, the girl is walking toward him, and then she is in front of him, right in his face. He wants to take a step back, because he isn't used to her being so close—even though she _did_ get close when she was healing him—but he doesn't.

He's not going to let this little waterbender—_peasant_—intimidate him.

She stares up at him, so he stares right back, trying not to think about the fact that he is facing down a _waterbender_ in the middle of the ocean.

"Can you show me?" She asks, still looking up at him.

"What?" He blinks in confusion.

"Your fire." Her eyes drop down, and then she is looking at his hands, "Your bending. Can you show me?"

His first instinct is to say no, because Father had always said to never show an enemy what he was truly capable of. But then he remembers that she is _not_ an enemy. But she could be…maybe one day. The waterbender standing in front of him is watching him with nothing but curiosity though, and a small part of him feels a little proud that she is so interested.

And she did heal him. She healed him a lot, so he sort of owed her. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

Raising one hand, he clenched his fingers into a fist before slowly opening them back up. The flame he produced was a small ball of red fire, floating harmlessly a few inches above his palm. It was a tiny amount of flame, really nothing spectacular, but the girl's eyes widened nonetheless.

She stays quiet for a few moments, before looking up.

"Do you ever…burn yourself?" Katara asks.

He shrugs, still holding the fire, "Sometimes. I used to a lot more when I was kid, before I learned how to control it."

"Is that how you—" She claps a hand over her mouth, but it's too late.

Her eyes had darted to his left. To his _scar_.

He clenches his fist closed, snuffing out the fire, anger settling in his stomach. Zuko steps back then, taking a few breaths to try to calm himself. He wants to stomp away, to go sit in the corner of the deck where the stupid waterbender won't bother him.

"I'm—I'm sorry." She stammers, biting her bottom lip, "I didn't…I didn't mean to—"

"You think this was an _accident?_" He growls before he can stop himself. As soon as he says the words, he wants to roar in frustration. How could he be so _stupid_? How could he just…tell her that?

He thinks he should correct himself, should tell her that yes, it was a silly bending accident. That would be better.

But it's too late. The waterbender is clever, and she picks up on his words immediately, her whole body stiffening.

Zuko turns away from her, crossing his arms against his chest. At least the sun is gone now, and in the dark he can pretend that she is not there.

After a few moments, he can hear her footsteps. She is approaching him. Even though he hates the idea of a waterbender at his back, he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet her eyes.

"You know," Her voice is soft, "When you were unconscious…I tried to heal your scar."

He doesn't say anything.

"I couldn't, obviously." She continues because he does not stop her, "But I tried."

He doesn't say anything. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he's not sure how to form the words to match what he's feeling. A part of him is disappointed, another part grateful, and then there's even a small part of him that is affronted that she was just going to heal his scar without even asking permission. What if he had woken up without it? How…how would he have reacted?

He doesn't know. He honestly does not know.

"The best healers in the world couldn't heal it." He mutters scornfully, "What made you think you could?"

"Because I'm _better_ than the best." She says this as if it were common knowledge.

She sounds so sure of herself that he believes her. The fact that he is standing before her at this very moment proves just how powerful she truly is. Had he been back home, Zuko would've taken months to recover, even with the best healers.

"Well, it didn't work." Zuko shrugs, still not looking at her.

"I _know_ that." Katara says, and he can hear the frustration creeping into her voice, "Maybe…I could try again—"

"No." Zuko shakes his head.

He knows there is no point.

When a few minutes pass, and Katara doesn't press the issue, he knows that she thinks the same.

It is _pointless_.

"Did you teach yourself to bend?" She walks up next to him as she speaks, and then they are standing shoulder to shoulder. Zuko scowls at that, and forces himself to keep staring out at the water instead of turning to look at her.

"Yes." He answers, but that is only half true.

"Me too." She picks up her arms, grabbing onto her elbows as if she is holding herself, "I've never…I mean, when those soldiers attacked…"

This time he does turn to her. He cannot hide his surprise, gold eyes widening as he looks down at her.

"You've never fought anyone with your bending?" He asks, even though he knows the answer.

_The ice disc slices cleanly through the lead soldier's neck. His severed head falls to the ground, body following not long after. _

_She drops her arms slowly, curling her fingers into fists, eyes stuck on the cleaved bodies that are now pouring blood onto the snow. _

"I've never fought anyone, I've never…never _killed_ anyone with my bending." She is looking at the deck, and Zuko has difficulty reconciling with the fact that this is the same girl who, just moments ago, got in his face and stared him down.

She looks even smaller now.

"How did you train without fighting anyone?" Zuko asks.

It seems impossible that the girl had never fought before. When she attacked those soldiers…she moved so perfectly. Like she didn't have to think twice before going through the waterbending motions. She took those soldiers heads off before she even realized what she had done.

She shrugs, still staring at her feet, "I don't know. I just went to the shore and practiced on my own. Sometimes I'd spend all day out there…"

She trails off as if she is waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't.

"Sometimes," Katara continues, "It was like I'd forget about everything else. I'd get so…so wrapped up in my bending that I didn't even realize how much times was passing. And then, before I knew it, the sun would be going down and I'd have to rush home to make it back before night. And then the next day I'd go right back out there and do it _again_. Almost like I…like I…"

"…Like you had to?" He says quietly.

The girl turns and looks at him, her ridiculous blue eyes widening.

"Yes." She nods, "Sometimes, if I didn't go out and bend, I'd start feeling…"

"Restless." He finishes quickly as he turns to face her straight on, "Like if you didn't bend you just had all this energy building up inside you and it—"

"—Drove me crazy!" She smiles wide, her voice tinged with excitement, "I'd start pacing around the grounds doing _anything_ to take my mind off of it—"

"—I'd accidentally set things on fire," Zuko continues, "I'd run, and I'd fight with my swords, I'd do _anything_ to try and stop thinking about it—"

"—But it didn't work!" She shook her head, "I would just feel crazy until I _finally_ went out there and practiced all day and it still—"

"—wasn't enough. It still wasn't enough." He finishes.

They stare at each other. Katara is smiling, and Zuko is scowling.

He doesn't know why, but an uneasy feeling settles in his gut. He hated those days, when—for whatever reason—he couldn't practice his bending. He would stomp through the palace, shouting with rage at any poor servant who crossed his path. He would pull at his hair, hating that gnawing feeling in his stomach, hating how his fingers itched, how he just had all this _energy_ and he couldn't get rid of it.

He had never talked to anyone about it. _Nobody_ could possibly understand.

And here stands a waterbender…telling him she knows exactly how he felt.

It…it doesn't make sense.

Or maybe it does. Zuko thinks that Iroh would say it makes _perfect_ sense.

"I…I need to sleep." Zuko says, turning away from her. He sees her face fall in disappointment, and for some reason that makes him feel bad.

He still walks to the cabin anyway, unable to shake the heavy feeling from his shoulders.

* * *

_He dreams of her, the woman with blue skin. Her hair is black, and her eyes are black, and when she turns to stare at him…_

_He wants to scream, wants to run. He is afraid, and he doesn't know why. He turns away from her and tries to run, but his legs are heavy and his bones are weak. He can barely move, but somehow he escapes, somehow he gets away from her._

_But he knows she can see him, he knows she is chasing him._

_He sees the waterbender standing in a pool of water. Katara, her name is Katara. He runs to her, he screams to her, but she has her back to him. He screams again, he waves his arms, trying to tell her to run, trying to tell her the woman will kill them both. _

_Zuko falls into the water, stumbling, trying to reach her._

_And finally Katara turns, and her eyes are black. Then he sees his reflection in the water, and he laughs, he laughs until his throat bleeds._

_His eyes are black too. _

When he wakes, Sokka is hovering over him. He tells Zuko that they have reached the temple.

* * *

**I'd really appreciate it if you could leave me a review! Good or bad, I really want to know what people think!**


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